


Life's a Hoot

by ejqz



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adulthood, Aged-Up Character(s), Bokuto Koutarou Being Bokuto Koutarou, Editor!Reader, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Injury Recovery, Memories, Minor Original Character(s), Mutual Pining, Personal Growth, Post-Time Skip, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 90,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27058003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ejqz/pseuds/ejqz
Summary: You used to consider persistent overachieving and meticulous planning as the way to happiness. After landing your dream job as an editor at a publishing company, you begin to realize all the missing and broken pieces you have neglected along the way. But when you and Akaashi attend a special exhibition match for a company project, you reunite with Bokuto Koutarou and everything swerves. Ready or not, you are already on the fast-track of a journey for growth and possibilities.  The nostalgic, youthful high-school days are long gone, but good times still await you.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Bokuto Koutarou & Reader, Bokuto Koutarou/Reader
Comments: 412
Kudos: 405





	1. 21 Floors Above Tokyo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are now what others can call a "working professional", stationed in a normal office building, at a normal desk. A trip to Sendai with your colleagues starts your trip down memory lane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! First chapter! It was difficult to decide on structure and tenses, but I think I have worked it out for the most part. Aspects of 'working life' are taken from real-life anecdotes of myself and others I know, lifestyle vlogz on youtube, as well as constructed from some other research on working & school life in Japan. I think I'm learning quite a bit from researching for writing out details.  
> We'll be seeing some fateful encounters in the next chapters!

_Have you ever thought about what life would be like after high-school? College? What about after that? Graduate school? A career in one particular subject and niche? One grade year after the next, but when we hit the end, where do we go from here on out?_

You would’ve never imagined that life after college would become one like this: wake up before the sun, curtail out of the apartment, rush down the paved streets to catch the subway while grabbing a quick breakfast, get to work, power through non-stop meetings after meetings, pressing deadlines, a quick lunch, more meetings, late nights at the office, lug yourself home, shower, and fall asleep even before your head hits the pillows. 

_What are you here for?_

To work at your dream job as an editor at your dream company. 

_Is there any meaning and end to this sort of life?_

Foolish. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? 

_But does it have to be this tiring?_

That’s what everyone else is thinking you know, it’s just grown-up. 

While you continue typing away, working on the manuscript that is quote-en-quote “due yesterday” as your boss puts it, your phone vibrates on the table. You take a quick glance to see if it needs to be addressed instantaneously, or queued up for later. 

It's from Bokuto Kotaro. _“Yup, that sounds good! Can’t wait to see you and Akaashi again!_ ” 

You smile slightly and bring your fingers to type out a response. _“Great! We’ll be there to watch your match tonight. Good luck and see you soon!”_

Later that day, Akaashi comes and knocks on the side of your desk. “Hope I’m not interrupting, are you ready to go soon? Udai and I are wrapping up. ” 

You always knew that Akaashi Keiji, an underclassman from Fukurodani High School as well as the University of Tokyo, aimed for a spot as an editor at this publishing company. You did too, and so it is only natural that the two of you are in close contact. As his senior, you’ve given him plenty of advice when it came to choosing classes, networking, and interviewing. Although he did not end up at the literature department like he had wanted (and you hoped), the shounen manga department is no less competitive or busy. Weekly shounen manga deadlines make the work very cut-throat, but calm and smart Akaashi has been managing just fine. In anticipation of the Olympics in two years, there will be a special series released focused on sports leading up to the big event. Editorials teams from various departments have been collaborating to compile interviews, exclusive footage, and other literature related to sports. And currently, the issue is going to be about Volleyball.

“Almost, let me finish this draft and send it off first. Give me 10 minutes.” 

“Sure thing. We’ll wait for you in the lobby,” Akaashi tells you, before going off to notify Udai to pack his bags. 

You turn your attention back to your screen and quickly finish up editing on the first draft, then sending it off to the team, cc-ing your manager. There are a lot of issues that you have noted and you anticipate the following week to be stacked with meetings on the viability of this light novel. 

So much work, you think to yourself as you pack the laptop away into your tote and head down to the lobby. The elevator passes through 21 floors before reaching the ground floor. 21 floors above Tokyo huh. That’s where all your hard work has landed you.

You exit the elevator, swipe out at the security checkpoint, and spot Akaashi and Udai sitting at the waiting benches. Seeing you walk over toward them, the two men stand up as well. You notice the apparent height difference between the two. Fascinating, how despite his shorter stature, Udai Tenma used to be the ace player on his volleyball team in high school and even earned the moniker “Little Giant”. The sun is just starting to set outside the office building. Commuters walk quickly to their destinations. Some with a straight back while others carry a more pronounced hump. Luckily, the subway isn’t too filled since it isn’t full-throttle rush hour, but clearly, the subway is packed by the time you arrive at the Tokyo Station. You and Udai go to pick up the tickets to Sendai Station in Miyagi. Akaashi picks up some food at the convenience store for the three of you. There isn't a lot of food selection on the bullet train anyway. You finish the quick meal in time for the train to arrive. 

One and a half hours on the train passes by surprisingly quickly. Passengers eat their meals. Folks continue to work on their laptops. Children squirm in their seats. Akaashi is working with Udai on the latest Zombie Knight Zom’bish manga chapters. You remember hearing about the drama behind that series--how Udai and the head editor got into a huge argument and ended up taking Udai off the project altogether. Your team at the literary department even heard it across from the other side of the hall. And although you don’t really know the details, Udai had been really burned out from the project already...maybe it’s a fortune in disguise. You turn back to the volleyball player guidebook that you picked up in advance for the game tonight, staring at page 27, Bokuto’s page. Eccentric hair. The constant low hum of the Shinkansen starts to lull your eyelids, coaxing them shut, and you soon find yourself napping, catching up on the non-exhaustive sleep deficit that continues to pile. 

\----

“Bokuto?” you ask cautiously, tapping the desk where the boy is curled over. “Yukie asked me to help out with your remedial studies.” 

Bokuto pulls himself out of his slumber, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He sees you in front of him and immediately jumps up, alert. “Hey Hey Hey! Sorry, didn’t see ya there.” Both of you look down at his table where a small pool of drool formed from his sendentery rest. Flustered, Bokuto pulls on the edge of his uniform ready to wipe away the mess, but you beat him to it with a tissue from your pocket. 

“Sorry! Really, I’m not a slob I swear! Uh...thank you for helping me out today. I know the class 6 students are usually really busy. Yukie said no,” he rambles, still visibly a little embarrassed. His hand is scratching the back of his hair. Black with tips dyed grey, all gelled up. It’s probably one of the most eccentric hairdos you have ever seen. It’s a wonder how he convinced the disciplinary committee to turn a blind eye. Pfft, maybe something along the lines of, “it improves school spirit because we’re the owls”. Perhaps that would fly.

“No worries," you reassure him and add, "Yukie just has a lot on her plate.” Yukie, manager of the Boy’s Volleyball Club, is your classmate and friend. She’s recently been so busy helping out with the club and didn’t do super well on her own exams. So she’s frantically filling up missed material, leaving absolutely no time to tutor the athlete. Bokuto’s classmates already have their own practice and schoolwork to juggle. This is where you come in. You have heard many things about Bokuto from various sources. Your impression of him is that, at the very least, he is earnest and honest. “Let’s get started shall we?” 

As the clock slowly turns, you walk the owl-haired boy over one lesson after the next. You and Yukie are in class 6, part of the cohort of university-prep students. These people will be your comrade-in-arms for three years of high school before the university entrance exams. While some students move in-between classes on rare occurrences, most of the placements are already determined via the entrance exam when you applied for high schools already. It’s been a while since you’ve needed to work with Mathematics I material, but teaching is the best way to review right? You observe how Bokuto fingers trace the geometric shapes on the paper and come together to form the shapes when working through the trigonometric ratios. And how he looks a lot more stumped on permutations and combinations. 

“How do you normally study Bokuto?” 

“Dunno, just open the book and read I guess,” he mumbles, brows furrowed to solve the problem you gave him.

“Let’s work this problem out on the board together.” The two of you stand in front of the chalkboard. You pick up a piece of chalk and write out the “Permutations” and “Combinations”, following with examples and noting the differences in different colors. You can feel Bokuto standing right behind you. He’s tall. It feels like the heat is radiating off of him trapping you between his body and the chalkboard you still have your gaze fixed on. When you call him again, he shifts and moves beside you, as you let out an inaudible sigh that is pent up in the back of your throat. The two of you verbally work through the problems together, with you helping to clarify and categorize the different areas of knowledge, pointing out patterns and key points to solving them. You also share how you “read” the textbook and organize the knowledge dump that comes with each lecture. You find that Bokuto easily goes through the basic forms of each section with little difficulty.

He is by no means a slow-learner. And certainly not a poor student like how many others portray the class 1 students out to be. Bokuto tells you that he usually feels a little tired after morning practice, energy running low especially after the lunch hour in math. The monotone voice of the teacher does not help keep the already exhausted teenager awake. You’ve heard many rude things spoken by your classmates, wondering how the cohort could have possibly passed the notorious high school examinations to make it into the prestigious institute. So? He’s a rising star athlete and academically clearly past the minimum to be here. Without a bare minimum, Fukurodani wouldn’t have been able to offer admissions anyway. Not many Class 6 students have much to offer other than a grade on a paper. Sure, there are always exceptions, but Bokuto and volleyball are a special type of synergy. That’s when you realize that Bokuto didn’t mention volleyball at all since the beginning of this tutoring session.

“How’s the volleyball team?” you suddenly ask. You hear about others talking about how Bokuto is an absolute volleyball fanatic. What's keeping the passionate boy in front of you from the never-ending spews of his teammates and games. 

“Oh!” Bokuto looks surprised at your sudden question and then breaks into a huge grin, golden eyes sparkling. "We’re doing great! We just had an awesome match! I actually even met a middle school student at the end...I think his name was Kashi? I don’t remember, but I think he might come to our school next year. He plays volleyball too…. I can’t wait to meet him and...” 

Bokuto continues his ramble. He must have withheld all things volleyball during this tutoring session...but look at how his eyes sparkle at the first mention of his beloved. If you keep him any longer today, wouldn’t you be the villain? 

“Sounds like I shouldn’t keep you away from volleyball for long. How about calling it a day? We can continue next time.” 

Bokuto stops his rambling and begins to shift a bit nervously. 

“Actually, do you think you have some more time still? I was wondering if you could look over my Japanese paper for me too? The teacher keeps telling me I need to proofread, but when I read it I never find problems...but they keep popping up when she corrects it!” 

Literature. 

“Sure!” 

You take the paper he pulls out of his bag and two of you huddle over the two sheets of paper on the small wooden desk. With a pen, you make some faint marks on the paper, showing Bokuto common areas for mistakes, techniques on catching them. As you read through the paper, you learn more and more about Bokuto’s thinking process: vibrant, energetic, and soulful. Just like his volleyball. His writing is passionate and empathetic to the characters and their plight, demonstrating his resonance with the text. It’s a shame that some teachers fail to see past the proper instruments of grammar and discover great writing. After all, even professional writers have editors and copywriters. 

“You really, really like literature huh?” Bokuto exclaims, breaking you out of your reverie. Golden eyes stare deeply into your own. You can almost see yourself and your flabbergasted look in the pools.

Pulling back into the moment, you ask, “what makes you say that?” 

Bokuto laughs. "Anyone can see it! Your eyes are different and gleaming. Even your voice changes! Hey Hey Hey, it’s like that one time during a volleyball match, when all my cross-shots got blocked by this one team, but I trained really really hard on my straights. They couldn’t block me at all, hehehe….”. He continues on about volleyball, having lost the filter to share anything about the sport with anyone. 

Just a simple observation. 

A correct observation. 

You are right Bokuto. 

\----

“The station is approaching.” 

Akaashi’s hand gently wakes you. What a memory that was. Ah, yes, on the way to the game. The train soon pulls up at the Sendai Station. Already, you can see the station has a number of fans of the Schweiden Adlers and MSBY Black Jackal can be seen everywhere donning their sports team’s colors, carrying colored flags and banners. The numbers only increase when you get closer to the Sendai Municipal Gym.

You see the giant banner hanging right above the main entrance advertising the 2018-2019 V. League season. All the athletes are showing their tenacity and game face. Your gaze stops at Bokuto Koutarou….the same eccentric hair and golden eyes. 

The same bright smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Japan, and many parts of Asia, students have to take a high school entrance exam to gain admission to high school. And again at the high school level to university. Sports scholarships are offered on rare occurrences since most still view traditional academics as the most competitive indicator. We see how the team in Shiratorizawa was able to gain entrances by sports scholarships and that Shirabu had to study his way into the school. But Shiratorizawa is also clearly an elite private boarding school, so funding and privileges may be a little different than others. Nekoma’s full name is ‘Metropolitan Nekoma High’, suggesting it’s a public school of the Tokyo metropolitan area. Karasuno’s full name is actually ‘Miyagi Prefectural Karasuno High’. They are public schools. Fukurodani is shown as an ‘Academy’, meaning they are likely a private school. Date Tech is likely a specialized high school, focused more on STEM subjects and preparing in that direction. There are also vocational ‘high schools’, usually for students who don’t make the entrance exams, but I don’t think they would have the resources to establish a fully developed volleyball team.  
> If you are curious about some more information, here are a few sources that I think offer a good survey.  
> [Japanese High School (10-12 grade) Math Curriculum](http://library.msri.org/books/Book36/files/judson.pdf)
> 
> [Daily Life in Japanese High School](https://spice.fsi.stanford.edu/docs/daily_life_in_japanese_high_schools)


	2. MSBY vs Adlers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After many years, you finally meet Bokuto again at the MSBY vs Adlers special match in Sendai.

The stadium is packed. The bright lights, music, and loud cheers fill the space with energy. You, Akaashi, and Udai settle down in your seats just in time to see the MSBY Black Jackal and Schweiden Adlers team members make their entrance, each accompanied by a player from the local youth league. The announcers continue to introduce the players one by one. 

“You guys can continue watching,” Akaashi says. “I’ll go get some food for us from Miya’s.” 

Udai nods but you stand up. “I’ll come with you too.” 

The two of you make your way down the bleachers to the food stalls. The line for the food stall is quite long, and the match has started already. Not a bad spot though. The food stalls are actually closer to center court. One in particular has an especially long line. Ah, yes, Onigiri Miya, a not-so-secret local favorite in Osaka. Whenever the Tokyo editors have a trip to the Osaka location, they always rave about it. You wonder if its success will ever result in a business expansion for a Tokyo location. Now THAT would be great. While waiting in line, you observe the match from up-close. The close distance allows you to easily see the athlete’s and their expressions. Their above-average heights and musculature made all the more obvious. 

“Hey! Akaashi, hope you’ve been well! And hello as well to-” Osamu greets you two when it’s your turn. You introduce yourself as Akaashi and Bokuto's classmate as well as current position as Akaashi's colleague. Osamu is close to a carbon copy of the other twin currently in the match, but his softer and more easy-going features are a distinctive marker between the two.

“I’ve heard so much about your famous onigiris. People practically fight for the chance to take a business trip to Osaka,” you compliment.

“Haha, aw thanks! I’m glad you all enjoy it so much,” Osamu exclaims. He is clearly pleased with the fact his creations have a well-established reputation even in Tokyo. 

“Ever consider expanding to Tokyo?” Akaashi asks. “Would be a hit, for sure. Consider right next to our building.” 

Yes!!!! Excellent question my dear Watson. 

“Undergoing an approval process now. I think it’s definitely going to be something to look forward to! It’ll be the first location aside from our flagship store,” Osamu shares proudly. 

You inwardly cheer at this great news. Suddenly, the crowd erupts into loud cheers, but for a different reason. You turn your attention back to the courts to see Adler’s captain, Romero, stepping up to prep for his serve. 

Akaashi briefly tugs at your sleeve. “Let’s get back to our seats to sit and watch. It’s only going to get better from here on out.” 

The two of you thank Osamu again for the food and make your way back up to the bleachers. Udai looks impatient, biting his lip while focusing on the game. You hand an onigiri over to him and proceed to eat your own dinner while also watching the match. Good timing too. Everything is getting good.

Both you and Akaashi begin to chuckle upon seeing Bokuto bringing his arms together repeatedly in a loud clap. The rhythm slowly catches on with the crowd and everyone slowly begins to join in. The announcers catch the energy real soon too. 

“Up next is #12, Bokuto Koutarou. Ever the energetic player, look at him working up a crowd for his serve!” 

“He has that power to turn the whole stadium up a notch for sure. And a very powerful and versatile player.” The second announcer nods in agreement. “I’m excited about what he’ll be showing us today.”

Bokuto does not disappoint and delivers a powerful jump-serve. 

\----

“Come on, come on, faster, faster!” Students frantically wave banners and shout cheers. It is the first sports festival for you at Fukurodani. Each class is hoping their representative can sprout wings on their feet and propel them sooner to the finish line. You are going to receive the final baton as the anchor for the girls in the first year, sixth class. Honestly, it still baffles you how you have ended up in your position. Prior to Bokuto, you never would’ve considered any affinity for sports, much less running the 4x400. About how that came to be is a whole other basket of crazy. You see Yukie coming around towards you, face puffy and red from her sprint. 

“Almost there Yukie! Over here!!!” You shout at her while starting to prepare for the transition. The girls from 1-2 and 1-4 have already taken flight, both members of the track team. Yukie presses the baton into your open hands and you immediately take off. The cheers of the students fall into the background. All you hear is your heartbeat working hard to support you. Another girl you recognize from the first class closes in on you. And it is the final showdown between the two anchors of the classes at polar ends of the academic ladder to secure the bronze. 

You hear a guy screaming your name. “Run! Run! Run!” 

You don’t know who the voice belongs to, but it breaks through all other noises and spurs you on, pushing you to dig deep for strength and speed. The sun rays hit your eyes and you feel sweat dripping down your temples. Your chest meets the finish line first. And the girls in your class immediately rush into a large huddle cheering. When you catch your breath and start walking off to the sidelines. You see Bokuto running towards you. No wonder you thought the voice sounded familiar.

“You were absolutely amaze-balls out there! All that training paid off, yea?” he exclaims, handing you a bottle of sports drink. “Here, drink this.” 

“Thanks.” You gladly accept the drink. “Was that you cheering? What about your class?”

“I’ll just win the boys relay for them!” He says smugly.

You laugh at his huge grin and how he puffs his chest out in confidence. “Yea you do that. I’ll cheer for you too.” 

\----

The game continues, back and forth. An endless struggle from both sides of the court vying to come out on top. The score is 23-19. Set-point for the Jackals. The Adlers are not relenting at all. Each spike is more ferocious than the last. Each round of play speeding up. You see Bokuto fly up at the net, bringing a strike down. The ball goes flying off into the spectator stands. 24-19. First set to Jackals. 

“One more to go!” you cheer and pray internally.

While the teams take a water break, Bokuto continues to hype the crowd around him. Until the setter pulls him down to actually take a break. 

Bokuto has always been one to bring a dose of energy, or chaos, to the scene. 

\--

“Hey, don’t you get tired sitting in your chair all day? I would start fidgeting in no time. The chair needs a break from you too,” Bokuto exclaims. 

You look up from the papers you are looking over and see Bokuto squatting down next to your desk, fingers on the edge like a sad puppy asking for attention. You snort in an attempt to stifle a laugh. “You’re the one being tutored, Bokuto. This is as much training as volleyball. Didn’t you already have training early this morning?" And have another one later today, you mentally add. 

Bokuto jumps to his feet and flexes his biceps. “Well, either way, I think we can do some other training. The sports festival is soon! Be all fired up, hey!”

You start to get nervous. Literal sparks are erupting in Bokuto’s fiery gaze and you know from watching him in a game, it might not be good to be on the receiving end. Before you register anything, Bokuto pulls you by the wrist and proceeds to sprint-drag you out of the room. 

“Hey, hey hey! Let’s go let’s go let’s go!” 

“Ah, Bokuto, shoes shoes shoes!” you shriek, feeling the indoor school slippers beginning to slip off your feet. 

“Oh, right.” Bokuto remembers his own lack of proper footwear too and takes a sharp turn towards the shoe cubby near the school entrance. You begin to change into your sneakers. At this point, you know that talking any sense to your “ward” is going to be pointless. It’ll be better if he gets this energy out, then maybe he’ll sit through the lesson you haven’t finished yet. Wait, wait wait, but what if he gets too tired and falls asleep. Nah, a chance worth taking, an impatient Bokuto is the most difficult to deal with. 

“You know, I always wondered how much I would have to press the fire alarm for it to go off.” You hear Bokuto say behind you. 

Yea, haha you wonder too. How much would it take? You’d have to try it to know right? Try it? 

“Bokuto!” You whip your head around to the sounds of the fire alarm already going off and come face to face with a frozen Bokuto looking sheepishly. Oh gods. “Yo, time to go.” 

You grab him and begin to sprint straight out the building, trying to get away from the supposed crime scene. 

“Bokuto Kotaro! Y/N!” A shout comes from the teacher’s lounge. Punishment is inevitable. But, today is a good day to just be a rebel. Either way there’s no escaping, might as well just go for a run at this point. Is this called youth? Probably just Bokuto-ism. 

\---

“Bokuto is really something, huh?” Udai let’s out. “He’s pretty incredible.” 

“A real pain in the butt, but I don’t think Akaashi or I would be here if it weren’t for him.” You reply with a smile. “In his own special way, I think he has shown us all a new way of living and being true to yourself.” 

That time with the fire alarm resulted in your first detention ever. Bokuto fell asleep during detention. And you just continued to finish your homework and make more study plans for Bokuto. Honestly, probably no different than what would have happened after a more orthodox impromptu sprint-session around campus. Not that it was normal by any means, but somehow these runs became a standard for the two of you. But aside from the boosted athleticism and stamina, you also began to amass a huge amount of gutsy confidence that scared yourself. Per Bokuto’s encouragement, you joined the writing club. And in your second year, you decided to be ballsy and worked to get yourself elected as the Treasurer in the student council. A good recommendation from both your own and Bokuto’s homeroom teacher easily secured the spot. 

“That’s certainly true. Bokuto’s quite special,” Akaashi says. “But he’s changed too, don’t you think?” 

You don’t respond immediately, still focusing on Bokuto in the game. Back in the days, it took a lot more effort for him to get back on track when he’s not in his element. But now, no longer.

“Maybe change isn’t the right word,” you suggest.”Evolve is a better word.” 

“Evolve.” Akaashi repeats the word, perusing each aspect of it. 

To half the stadium’s delight, the Jackals pulls through in the second set as well and wins the match 3-1. Bokuto goes absolutely nuts on the court, picking up his teammate, #21, Hinata, and running around in circles. You, alongside the rest of the audience, stand in applause for the incredible game the athletes from both teams have showcased to you all this evening. And the slow trickle of the crowds to funnel out the stadium begins. 

It takes a while for the three of you to exit the stadium and find the security guard to gain entrance to the behind-the-scenes. You show the special pass sticker on your ticket and staff comes to greet you. 

“The athletes are currently taking a quick break. I’ll notify Bokuto of your arrivals. In the meantime, please wait in this room.” One of the staff shows you all to a large waiting room. It doesn’t take too long before a series of “hey hey heys” echo down the hall followed by hurried footsteps. 

“AKAASHI!!!!” Bokuto yells, bursting into the room. He is sporting a well-fitted clean jersey. His hair, still wet from a shower, is pushed back similar to his normal hairstyle. Seeing him in the same room makes you realize how the close distance emphasizes how much taller and muscular he has gotten. “Beefy and thick” float around in your mind for a moment. 

You watch Bokuto and Akaashi give each other a hug and catch up briefly. It’s been a long time since you have seen the pair together. In your second year, you and Bokuto didn’t run together as much, and eventually, the activity naturally stopped altogether by the third. That Bokuto naturally gravitated towards Akaashi was probably one of many reasons. Both being boys and sharing a passion for volleyball. Eventually, your conversations became Bokuto talking all about Akaashi and the balls he would set for him. 

\----

“Not that your tosses are bad! I really like working with you too!” Bokuto insists. 

You didn’t even think that way at all. But somehow it made you feel really warm knowing he cared about how you feel. 

“It’s okay! You two are on the same team after all!” 

Bokuto immediately tries to clarify. “I’ll still ask you sometimes. If you’re not busy, but wait of course you’re always busy, when are you not busy. Wait, not that you’re a workaholic...but we can still play! Just not as much as before, but it isn’t because of you. It’s just - ) 

Your laugher cuts his ramble short. 

“Hello? You broken?" Bokuto wonders.

“Hahahahahahaha!” You continue to laugh, a fist pounding the table and the other clutching your abs. Eyes beginning to tear up. What an ab work-out. You look back at Bokuto, trying to explain yourself “No, it’s just, hahaha”. 

Bokuto sees your glassy eyes and begins to freak out.

“I’m happy for you Bokuto. That you have found someone to fight alongside and chase dreams together. The team will be amazing. Truly,” you reassure with a smile. 

May all the mean spirited comments made by the previous and current third-years be gone along with their presence. Those currently in the club within their year and below, know Bokuto and they trust Bokuto. He breaks apart the notions of hierarchy and treats each of his teammates as equals. This year will be better than the last. And no doubt next year too, when Bokuto will lead Fukurodani to assured success. 

\----

When Bokuto spots you in the back, he looks a bit taken back. “Y/N?” 

“That’s me. It’s been a while Bokuto.” You smile and walk towards, extending a handshake. Bokuto looks at your hand and takes it slowly. His large hand covers yours entirely. His build and height are even more obvious.

“Yea, I recognized your voice. But wow, you’re like totally different.” 

“She works now, of course, she will look different. You said the same thing when I wore a suit,” Akaashi states. He’s probably trying to explain Bokuto’s behavior to you so you won’t get offended. 

“Ahem.” Udai clears his throat in the corner. “Is this a high-school reunion or something?” 

“Hey!! Udai! Akaashi mentioned you to me before. Nice to meet you. I’m Bokuto.”

“Yea I know.” 

The four of you sit down to continue the chat. You and Akaashi discuss some more details of the collaborative volleyball special issue and the follow-up interview with Bokuto in Tokyo in two days. After the match tonight, the teams will remain in Sendai for some PR activities and a few other commercial shoots. Then the conversation shifts to Bokuto’s performance at the game tonight. 

“I’m just an ordinary ace now,” Bokuto states confidently.

“Ah, you mean that you are still an ace?” Akaashi inquires. 

“Wait, don’t tell me that you didn’t see me as the normal me out there?” Bokuto wonders. 

Akaashi doesn’t really know how to answer. 

“I think we all think you are extra-ordinary Bokuto. Normal and extra, extraordinary.” You pipe up. 

“Hey!!! Right? I’m just a normal ace now.” Bokuto grins.

Bokuto and Akaashi continue their discussion on “ordinary”. Udai asks you off to the side if this sort of conversation is within the norms. You whisper back that with Bokuto, ‘normal’ takes on vastly new definitions and parameters. 

A knock sounds at the door frame. A tall man in a suit with rooster hair walks over towards the four of you. That familiar hairstyle reminds you of the crafty captain of Nekoma. Long time rivals of Fukurodani and a topic of constant complaint by Bokuto.

“Sorry to burst into the middle of a reunion. Care if I join?” the man teases. 

“Yo! Kuroo! Looking mighty fine in that suit.” Bokuto jumps up. 

“Hey there Owl. And Akaashi, so nice talking to you on the phone last time.” Akaashi had been in contact with the sports promotion division Kuroo worked in as part of the volleyball special issue. 

“Likewise, Kuroo. Thanks for working with us on this project.”

“Nah, all in my job’s description. Besides, it’s you guys doing the actual leg work.” He turns to see you stand up next to Akaashi.

You smile and extend a hand to introduce yourself. “Also a part of this project with Akaashi. A pleasure to meet you.” 

Kuroo eagerly shakes your hand, gives a crooked grin, and widens his eyes. “Ah! I know you. From Fukurodani...heh, Bokuto wouldn’t shut-” He gets cut off with Bokuto suddenly flies into vision, tackling Kuroo down. 

“Kuroo, it’s been a while. Have you even been working out? You’re getting weak!” Bokuto jabs at Kuroo’s midsection. 

You look stunned at the pair in a tangled mess, while Akaashi briefly averts his gaze to the side. Akaashi breaks the momentary silence and turns to you. “How about we just call it a night for now. And catch up next time at the official interview?” While you were a little confused, you did feel a bit tired after the long day. You grab your coat from the back of the chair and turn to the now properly standing Bokuto-Kuroo pair. 

“Pleasure meeting you Kuroo. Rest well, Bokuto, we’ll see each other again soon. Again, congrats on a great game tonight. I had a lot of fun watching you play again.” 

“Yea, thanks. See you soon!” 

You, Akaashi, and Udai leave Kuroo and Bokuto in the room to continue their indistinguishable squabble. The three of you catch the Shinkansen heading back to Tokyo. Unlike the train to Sendai where there are murmurs and chitchat, the passengers aboard this late train were almost all catching their snoozes. On the other hand, you are wide awake, staring out the window with your faint reflection looking back at you. In your mind, you replay all the events of the night, trying to commit each moment to long term memory, safely tucked away. Udai is knocked out in front of you, his beanie is pulled over his face like a mask. Akaashi, on the other hand, looks to be busy texting someone. Akaashi doesn’t normally text in rapid-fire, so it is safe to assume either the person is of high importance or the content is of utmost significance.

“Is Bokuto missing you already?” you ask nonchalantly. 

“No, it’s Kuroo,” he replies without looking up. 

“For the project? At this hour? He works hard.” 

Akaashi pauses his texting a bit. “Yea, about the project. He has some questions, it’s all taken care of already.” 

Whatever they were chatting about. Whether or not it really was about work, it didn’t really concern you. You turn your attention back to the window watching the shadows pass by. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have any of you ever felt compelled to pull the fire alarm? The flashbacks in this chapter were especially fun to write. For the meticulous and goody-two shoes Reader-chan, Bokuto's antics certainly are a breath of fresh air. I'm sure there's a bubbly and bright side to Reader as well, somewhere in the crevices of achievements, milestones, and appearances. I think a sports festival is such a fun and unique things to have fun, boost student morale and friendship. There are a lot of athletic and non-athletic games the classes and clubs participate in. Classes, for instance, might practice as a whole class to 'jump' in time with each other for a GIANT jump-rope competition.


	3. The Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The interview between your team and Bokuto takes place. Moods turn sour, maybe some table gets flipped. Offensive co-workers, workplace politics, struggling self-identity...it's not easy for a new graduate at your 'dream' job. Things are definitely not going well today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Sexual Harassment/Workplace Harassment; Overwork; Depression; Anxiety; Low Self-Esteem

“Hello. I am a current senior at the University of Tokyo majoring in Japanese Literature and Culture. I am passionate about bringing good works of literature to the public. I have a number of relevant experiences….” 

That’s how you started your life-changing interview at the entrance to climb the career tower. You felt surefire that you were on the top of your game. The world was at your fingertips and your expertise would breathe life into it. You felt important, powerful, and ready. The large glass windows of your building surveyed the Tokyo cityscape. You could watch the people and cars moving about their day, unknown to the fact that they were being watched from afar by a young woman whose career had just taken flight. That was until reality set in. 21 stories was a long way down. And it was your deepest fear to crash. 

“You’re such a sweetheart. Would you please take care of this manuscript for me? My boyfriend made a reservation at a really expensive restaurant, so I can’t be late. I’ll make it up to you!” 

“That’s okay! Just leave it there, don’t worry about it.” 

_It means they trust you._

“I totally forgot the meeting in the afternoon. I don’t even have the PPT together yet...do you think…?”

“That’s okay! I’ll help you out with that.” 

_It means they believe in you._

“The client said they really like working with you.” 

“That’s okay! I’ll handle it.”

_It means that you are competent._

“I’ll leave the proposal to you. “

“Yup.”

_Worthy._

“I left it on your desk. Can you work your magic like usual?” 

“Sure.” 

_What does it mean to you?_

Your phone reads 3:07 AM. You just open the door to your apartment. The dark and empty hall greets its tenant back. You’re so tired. Hungry. And cold. But it is not from the low thermostat or the melted snow seeping into your coat. You kick your shoes off at the genkan and don’t bother with straightening the pair out. If anyone saw your messy behavior, they would probably give you the side-eye. But it’s your own living quarters. If you don’t want to, that’s okay right? At the very least, you make the rules under this roof right? Lying down at the entryway, you scroll your phone contacts briefly. Each number after the next all co-workers, clients, sponsors. Work-related. Every now and then there might be a university or high-school acquaintance, but you have long since lost contact with just about all of them. Yukie, Kaori, the other boys from the volleyball clubs, your writing club, the student council, peers from your homeroom... You’re not sure when it started to happen. Somewhere someday, you became too busy to show up to birthday dinners or weekend outings. Weekends were for catching up on sleep...and work. There is no time to play. Not 21 floors above Tokyo. 

“Thank you for helping again last time. You’re a goddess and we all adore you.” That’s Fujimoto. Fujimoto is Akaashi’s senior in the Manga department by a couple years. Not quite a manager, but has enough seniority under his belt to make requests from the newer employees. Which is probably how Akaashi ended up having to take care of a rush deadline tonight and why the more luxurious task of eating with and interviewing a celebrated athlete is being taken care of by this man instead. It’s a known fact that Fujimoto is also close with one of the HR folks. To get on his bad-side is a convenient way for career suicide. The best thing to do is to not associate with him at all. And considering your separate department, usually an easy thing to do. Except, there’s the inter-departmental collaboration issue going on. He’s competent, but just a bit friendly in an unusual way. 

Fujimoto steps a bit closer to you. Too friendly.

“I’ll have to keep an eye out for you in case you get into trouble someday? Hm? I’m on your side, trust me.” He whispers. “Can’t wait to see you tonight. It’ll be fun.” 

You step back to bring back some distance.

“Of course, Bokuto is an interesting person. I’m sure it will go very smoothly.” 

You’re not sure if that’s a compliment to Bokuto as an individual, or an urgent prayer that the night will go by without issues. You freshen up a bit after work before heading out. Not that there is a need. The company’s strict dress code maintains a clear guideline to all employees to embody a “client-ready visage and wardrobe”. You exit the bathroom and see Akaashi standing in the hall. 

“Done for the day?” He asks, fumbling his fingers a bit. 

“Yea, I’m going to grab my bags and head out.” Akaashi looks a bit nervous. You ask cautiously. “Is something wrong?” 

“No, nothing of that sort. Just. I’m sorry I can’t make it.” He says looking away. His dark circles and eyebags become much more pronounced in this angle. 

You put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it. Good luck tonight...if there’s anything I can help with, let me know. And get some rest over the weekend.” 

“Thanks. And you too. If there’s something wrong...you can let me know too.” 

“Will do. Take care.” 

“Bye.”. 

The subway is already extremely crowded, from the first wave of workers heading home. You squeeze between the crowds and by the time you arrive at the restaurant, you have already worked up some sweat. Straightening out your clothes and smoothing out your hair, you enter the restaurant. Bokuto is already speaking to Fujimoto. Bokuto spots you first.

“Hey! We’re over here. I thought for a moment you weren’t going to be able to make it, like Akaashi.” 

You greet both Bokuto and Fujimoto before taking a seat next to Fujimoto. 

“Let’s order some food first, we can start with some introductions while we wait for the food to arrive.” You suggest. 

“No need already. I have already made arrangements beforehand. Don’t worry, I got your favorites too.” 

How did he know what you like to eat? Oh, maybe from Akaashi. In such a short time notice? You also see Fujimoto having a recorder and notebook off to the side. 

“Did you already get started with the interview, Fujimoto?” You ask. Why didn’t he wait for you? You aren’t late and this interview is clearly a collaboration. 

“I just figure this can help us save time later. Of course, your questions are most valued too.” 

An awkward silence slowly starts to build. You sense that the night is not going to go by quickly at all.

“How is work today!” Bokuto chimes in to break the tension. 

“Just the usual, nothing too stressful. We have a few publications lined up for next season, so work will-” You reply. 

“Manga is working hard as of this moment. Such a shame that Akaashi isn’t able to show up tonight.” Fujimoto injects. “I keep telling them if they work as hard as you athletes we wouldn’t have these late nights. I only trust Akaashi to be there with them.” 

“Yea, Akaashi is always a reliable one. Y/n too, she has been a huge help to me back in high school.” 

Before Bokuto continues on his talk about the “good old days”. You are able to get some questions in between Bokuto’s lengthy stories and Fujimoto’s interruptions. Not quite as organized as you wanted, but better than nothing to present to your superiors when you report in. The door slides open and a waitress brings in a tray with a couple of bottles of sake. The waitress places the cups in front of each of the guests and pours a small amount in each. 

“More, darling. Fill it up.” Fujimoto instructs the server. “It’s going to be a long night. Just leave it there, we have a beauty with us already.” He tilts his head over to you. 

You catch Bokuto’s eyes staring intensely at you and you let out a nervous smile to hopefully try to diffuse the situation. Then you give a thank you to the server who is on her way out of the room. Fujimoto brings his cup up. Both you and Bokuto follow suit shortly. 

“To more wins for Bokuto!” Fujimoto toasts, then downs his cup in one gulp. 

Bokuto also finishes his cup. You take a small sip and set the cup down off to the side. 

“Ya didn’t finish that cup, don’t try to hide it. It’s a fun night, here with Bokuto, enjoy yourself! Go on!” Fujimoto chides. 

You nod and think ‘just one drink, just one drink’ while you down the burning liquid. You begin to really miss Akaashi being here. It’s going to be a long night indeed. Before Fujimoto can call for a second round, the door slides open again. A line of waiters bring in trays of immaculately rolled and decorated sushi. Thank goodness food is here. 

On any other day, you would be ecstatic to have such a nice meal. The rice is perfectly portioned and fragrant, the seaweed crispy, the sashimi fresh. But each bite becomes slime and mush in your mouth. No flavors rolling off your tongue, only the lingering hope the evening can end sooner. The smacking sounds of the source of agony further threaten your peace-of-mind. You don’t hear Bokuto calling for a server and making a request. Moments later, a cup of hot tea is pushed in front of you. 

“Here. This might help.” Bokuto suggested. 

You graciously accepted and took a sip. Biting anxiety immediately washes away as you feel a gentle warmth wrapping around you. You try to start a conversation for the real purpose of the night, an interview with a nationally ranked athlete. 

“So, Bokuto, I was hoping to get some of your insights into this year’s season. Two days ago, I went to see your game in Sendai and it is absolutely incredible.” 

“Thanks, I’m glad you had fun! Yea, to be honest, I think this season’s going to be great. The whole team has been training really hard. I also got a personal trainer to focus on specific conditioning.” 

“Oh personal trainer? Do all the athletes have that?” 

“More or less. Training doesn’t just involve playing practice matches right. I think since going pro, there’s a lot more time spent on just conditioning the body and focuses on small things.” 

You try to steer the conversation to involve some more information about Bokuto as an athlete, person, and role model. Many readers of both the literature and manga works are younger kids to adolescents. Bokuto’s journey and energy would likely be a point of resonance for many. But each attempt at asking what Fujimoto has consistently been calling a ‘boring question’, is wearing your patience thin. You try to keep your composure constant and remind yourself, “Okay, bring out that smile you passed Client-Service Training with. Work those cheek muscles. You got this. 21 stories 21 stories.” You snag a chance to ask Bokuto a question. Maybe Fujimoto won’t interject this time.

“A fan asked a question that you might want to answer, they wrote, “Hi Bokuto, I’m currently the outside hitter in my middle school team. I am a huge fan and have watched a lot of your matches. As a well known high school ace and now also a star in the professional league, you are always primed to show and be the very best. What do you do or how do you deal with that pressure? Where do you find that confidence?” 

“What kind of question is that?” Manager asks off to the side. Yet again. Really. 

“What the readers really want to know is the scoop. The insider information.” Fujimoto leans in. “Just between us as men, what do you think of the pro women's volleyball league.”

“Well, I think they are pretty amazing too. Like us in the men’s league, they train really, really hard. We had a special match where we played mixed volleyball for fun and I gotta say they are real pros.” 

“That’s cool. Any that have caught your eye? I mean especially when they’re in the front row. What beauties.” 

“Fujimoto, that’s not really--” You began. This is just not going in the right direction. 

“Aish, don’t be shy, let’s hear Bokuto out.” He cuts you off and pushes both his and Bokuto’s cup towards you, gesturing at the sake bottle. 

“Fujimoto, this is-” You try again. 

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Woman, don’t you see that I’m trying to talk to Bokuto here? What’s wrong with-” 

“What’s wrong here, is you.” A loud table slam cuts into the mess. You flash your eyes at Bokuto. Fujimoto is equally stunned at Bokuto’s reaction. Bokuto looks positively livid, fuming. You have never seen Bokuto look that way ever. You have seen Bokuto laugh, cry, and frustrated, but Bokuto enraged is not a side you have ever made an acquaintance with. Fujimoto also realizes that the situation is starting to spiral. “Now, now. It’s all just a joke. Right y/n? We work closely together, so it’s normal to just kind of joke around, haha.” 

Bokuto ignores Fujimoto and looks straight at you. “Are you okay with his behavior? He cuts you off before you speak. He does not respect your boundaries. Are you okay with that?” 

_Of course not._

“Bokuto.” You try again, hoping to diffuse the situation before it escalates further. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

It doesn’t work. Bokuto repeats his question. 

“Do you feel uncomfortable with his behavior? Yes or no.” 

You look down at your cup of tea. If you say “no”, maybe does it solve the problem? If you say “yes”, what could you jeopardize? All the consequences that will follow from your truth. Is it something you can bear? You want to avoid all trouble. It's not like this man is in your department, either. You thought about the work it took to climb to 21 floors above Tokyo. No, you aren’t ready to admit ‘yes’ yet. But before you voice out your lie, you already found yourself giving a nod to Bokuto--your own reflexes faster than your rationality. 

Bokuto stands up from his seat. Fujimoto also rises up, shaking and puffing his chest out in an effort to bolster himself against the 190cm athlete. 

“What are you doing? Don't think you can try anything!” 

Bokuto scoffs and crosses his arms. 

“Is this how you normally treat your co-workers? She’s not even your subordinate right? Makes me wonder how you treat your reporting employees then. Don’t think I’m stupid and blind to what’s going on. I’m not covering up for you. I agree with this because both she and Akaashi are close friends of mine from high school. I didn’t call you out earlier because you are Akaashi’s senior. Did you think you guys were the only company around asking me for interviews? Do things right. Let’s just end this here.” 

Bokuto steps around the table, packs your tote with the phone and notepad, puts your coat around you, and takes your wrist to walk out. You didn’t say anything and let Bokuto take you away from the scene. Fujimoto is already too stunned to do anything and when he finally reacts and follows you two out of the restaurant. The wind bites into your face the moment you exit the space of nightmares. The hellhound chases.

“I’ll call your team’s manager. Just wait! The audacity! ARGH!” 

Neither you nor Bokuto responds or turn back. But you can recognize the sounds of feet kicking an innocent vending machine echo behind you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A [genkan](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Genkan) is the entryway area of a typical Japanese home. It's usually a few inches below the main floor level and is a place to leave your shoes. I think the different levels make it really easy to keep dirt out and also offer a sitting area to put the shoes on.
> 
> In Japan, as well as other East Asian countries, business dinners, company outings, and socials are all an extension of work. Due to the strict hierarchical nature of traditional culture, there is clear deference between senpai-kohai, seniors-juniors, where the latter must listen to and respect the former. It's supposed to be a symbiotic relationship where the seniors would properly encourage and guide their juniors, but when unchecked and abused, the result can be very detrimental to everyone. The crosssections of workplace culture and social issues are complicated topics that I won't get into here.


	4. I'm Different Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After leaving a disastrous dinner-interview between your co-worker and Bokuto, you and Bokuto head to a convenience store for some nostalgia.

Bokuto continues holding onto your wrist while walking down the street. Maybe two, five, ten minutes pass. The alleyway is dim and quiet, but the wind rustles through the trees loudly. The bustles of whistles of the main road can be heard in the distance. 

“Why did you do that?” You whisper. 

Bokuto doesn’t respond. 

“Why? Everything was going to be under control. You can’t just go on bursting everything, doing whatever you want. Spiking and...and hitting. This isn’t volleyball, Bokuto. Why did you have to do that?” 

It probably would be better if Bokuto just screams at your rudeness and runs off or something. His silence only makes you feel guiltier by the moment. You know everything you just said is a complete and utter lie. 

“Do you take me to be a fool too?” Bokuto finally asks. He doesn’t have the same brimming aura as before. It’s so uncharacteristic and unbecoming of him. Unlike his “emo-mode” in high school where it borders on humorous and you know he can pick himself back up. His shoulders are crestfallen and sullen.

“Sorry. That’s not right of me. I’m sorry. I’m just upset.” You sigh and apologize. Bokuto doesn’t acknowledge it and continues with his questions.

“How do you even work in that condition? Does Akaashi know this?”

He doesn’t stop, each question after the other growing louder and more desperate. “Why didn’t he say anything? Does that man bully Akaashi too? Why didn’t you say anything? Why do you let yourself be abused and insulted like that? What's your workplace like?!” 

“Bokuto.” You try to respond and tell him your script. _I’m perfectly okay. I’m a grown woman, I can take care of myself. This is normal. Don’t worry._ Your breath gets caught in your throat and you try to hold back the tears that threaten to glaze your eyes.

“You know,” Bokuto’s voice drops very low and let “People might sometimes see me as just a dumb brute and a man-child. But I still know bullshit when I hear it. You can lie to other people, tell them you’re having the best time of your life. Can I ask to hear the truth instead? How is my friend doing?”

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out this time either. Instead, your stomach is very eager to present an answer. _I’m hungry._ It shouts out to the world. It takes a moment for both you and Bokuto to process where the noise came from. Maybe it is exactly what is needed at the moment because your stomach grumbles again, and Bokuto begins to laugh. 

“Hey, hey, hey! Still hungry aren’t ya? I could use something too. Let’s run to the convenience store. We can get ramen like the old days.” He grabs your wrist again and prepares to run. 

“Bokuto.” You resist following after his first sprinting step. Bokuto turns and you gesture to your heeled footwear. “I can’t run in these.” 

“Oh.” He realizes suddenly. “Sorry, let’s just walk. Are your feet okay?” 

“It’s okay, they’re okay. I’m used to wearing them now.” 

You two walk down the street. Your strides are much slower than the normal hustle steps you take. Bokuto matches your footsteps. 

“I’m not really okay.” You admit quietly, answering his question from before. You don’t continue further and Bokuto doesn’t press further. 

The convenience store is a remarkable place for many different reasons. In the morning, an office worker running late might grab a coffee, breakfast, and lunch to go. Later during the day, students come after school for a soda or an ice cream on the way home. In the evenings, the overtime folks come for a quick meal before going back to their pile of work. And in the dead of the night, those hungover come for some relief to sober up. Behind the counter, is usually a high school or university student, juggling their stressful schoolwork and a convenient way to earn some cash. It’s almost like a rite of passage. 

“Hey, come look at all these selections. What are you feeling like having?” Bokuto asked while you two browsed down the aisles of instant food, and the shelves of freshly made ready to eat bentos. Bokuto picks up some familiar items. “Do you remember this one? You ate two of these and practically threw up on the way home once. Or this one? We both hated that.” 

Trust Bokuto to remember the weird details. You pick out an instant ramen bowl, some other packaged side dishes. Bokuto also eagerly picks out the same selection. “Seems like our tastes just haven’t changed!” 

You two bring your items to the register. The student worker sets aside his work, smiles, and greets the two of you. 

“And two cups for coffee please.” You add, fishing out some cash from your wallet. 

“Ah wait, I can pay.” Bokuto starts digging through his gym bag. 

“Don’t worry about it. I got it.” 

As the cashier scans one item after the next, you notice a familiar lanyard hanging from his neck. 

“University of Tokyo? What’s your major?” 

He looks at you while still scanning your items. Multi-tasking. “Japanese Literature and Culture.” 

“Oh, same here, well...graduated. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you, first year?” 

He nods. You remember the late-night shifts, where the lack of customers meant you were able to earn passive money while studying by the register. Sometimes things were quiet, and other times, some extremely interesting folks came by. You have seen people laugh with friends, cry alone, and listen to others vent to you about their coworkers while ringing them up at the register. Either way, those weren’t easy times. But compared to you right now, those were maybe better times. 

“I worked at a konbini for a bit too. Keep it up, everything will get better. Trust me.” You say, taking your items. A small bar section at the back of the store allows you and Bokuto to cook the ramen and brew some cheap coffee. The disaster of a ‘dinner’ feels distant already in your memory. You and Bokuto chat some more about the nostalgia of the convenience store. The normally painful three minute wait for ramen to cook flies by. You take a bite. Beautifully processed, gourmet msg goodness. The chew and the flavor far beyond what money can buy. You two eat in silence. Only the sound of slurping noodles and soup fills the space around you. Each exhale into the bowl brings a warm steam to your face. You had your fair share of this midnight indulgence during university, overtime, or other late nights too tired to eat anything else. During those years, you had to spend the three minutes waiting for the ramen to cook alone. Once you fell asleep waiting and woke up the next day. It’s been a long time since the duet sound of slurping noodles next to you. It’s strangely heartwarming, how the sound of eating is suddenly comforting. Maybe you really have spent too much time alone. After finishing the bowl, you brew some coffee for you and Bokuto. He opens the packets of mochi and hands you one. 

“When I saw you at the game. I was just really excited. We haven’t talked in so long, I didn’t even imagine that you would find time to come.” Bokuto begins.

_Guilty. You only did it because it’s work-related._

“Even if it’s because of your work, I’m happy you know. Hey, I don’t mind an extra audience member any time.” He changes his tone to try and liven the dead mood. 

“But today, I finally got a chance to take a good look at you.” He doesn’t continue. You look up from your coffee. You know. Your dark circles, probably made darker from your makeup smudging. Your complexion is dull and grey. Your frame is hollow. “When I held your wrist, I thought I was going to hurt them. You used to be…” 

_Athletic? Confident? Lively?_

“I’m different now. I know I changed. Not in the way I imagined myself. It just became this way one day.” You go back to sipping your coffee. 

“You told that guy ‘things will get better’. Did you think that for yourself too?” Bokuto asks. “It’s alright if you don’t feel like talking either.”

You stare at the dark liquid in the cup and your distorted reflection. You no longer feel a need to lie or hide. The empty convenience store and Bokuto’s presence make you feel like you are a safe place where you can be honest for once. 

“I did. I still sort of do.” You start. It’s not easy to express verbally what you have kept hidden even mentally. “I know I’m burned out, and after the second time, they are probably just using me. I can’t really say ‘no’. I don’t know how. I just tell myself to not complain because there’s a lot of other better and smarter people out there who aren’t as lucky as I am. I imagine my coworkers being disappointed at me, or one day realizing that I’m not good enough. I get scared. When they tell me I did well...or that I’m helpful, I just feel like maybe I’m worth something. That...I have achieved something.”

Bokuto hands you a tissue, which you gladly accept and bury half your face in it. You continue to tell him what happened to you after graduation from high school. How you struggled academically and financially in your first year of university. How the competition ate away at your sanity day by day. The days you stopped running, eating, sleeping in order to study just a bit more. The day you realized friends stopped asking you to hang out. How you fought tooth and nail to get an interview at your current company. You told him how your face hurt from smiling all day, how you actually wanted to cry when coworkers stacked their work on top of you. The first time a senior threw a manuscript at your face telling you to do it over after a client complained. The joy and pain of seeing Akaashi join the company as well. You share everything with Bokuto like one would with their personal diary. Bokuto sits by you quietly, continuing handing you a tissue from the box he ended up buying because the go-to packet ran out. When you can not speak coherently because you are in a sob, he pats your back gently and waits for you to collect yourself. 

“See, Bokuto. This is who I am now. I’m different now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely adore East Asian convenience stores. It's really a pitstop to do a lot of things. Grab quick food, groceries, necessities, and more.  
> Here is a link to learn more:  
> [The Unique Culture of Japanese Convenience Stores](http://www.bbc.com/travel/story/20190610-the-unique-culture-of-japanese-convenience-stores)  
> What about convenience stores in your area? Do they serve similar functions?


	5. Pour All Your Soul Into Each Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bokuto meet an unexpected fan at the convenience store. Memories of the spring inter-high surfaces. And a phone call from Akaashi moves the story forward.

After you share with Bokuto what your post-Fukurodani years were like, the two of you sit in silence. Bokuto slowly digests everything. The pile of tissues on the table has grown to a hefty size. 

“There are good times too, you know. I have co-workers who support me well, and when Akaashi also joined, it livened up the mood too.” You say. It’s true, there are definitely happy moments too. The excitement of getting your own place. Your first big-girl paycheck. Your first couch. The first cast-iron pan. Finally figuring out what looks best on your figure. 

“Thanks for sharing your experience with me.” Bokuto begins. “You’ve been through a lot of crazy. I’m sorry you had to go through those bad times….gawd, I wish I could that guy and all the other people...have you talked about this with Akaashi or someone else?” You shake your head. Your relationship with Akaashi is not quite the same as your friendship with Bokuto, and also not like Bokuto’s with Akaashi. 

“No, Akaashi is sort of like my junior in a way. It’s tough on him too, I just don’t think I can share this with him. I don’t think he really wants to listen to my problems either.” You try to explain carefully. 

“Akaashi is also my junior. But what difference does it make? He’s a good listener and even better friend. Actually, today he called me today.” Bokuto folds his arms over the table and props his head up with his right hand. What did they talk about? You prepare to ask him for some more details. 

“Hey, um, sorry to bother you guys. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything, I sort of overheard that your name?” A voice cautiously asks. It’s the cashier guy. He must have heard your story and sobs over at the counter. Should you apologize? 

“What do you want with us?” Bokuto questions back sharply. His tone scares the poor guy, who takes a step back defensively. You put a hand on Bokuto’s forearms. 

“It’s alright. Yep, that’s me. Did you need something?” You ask gently. He shouldn’t know you, because you already graduated before he started. The boy runs back towards the cash register and comes back quickly, handing a few sheets of paper to you. 

“Senpai,” he begins, acknowledging you as his senior. “Did you write this paper?” 

Bokuto peers over to look at the paper. You also look at the contents and recognize them immediately. Modern Japanese Literature. So it’s this class. That old man is still teaching that class? 

“We’re writing our first research paper at the moment and he shared this with us as a past student sample. Said this paper pissed him off at first…” He said sheepishly. 

“Yea, sounds like that old fart alright.” 

“But,” He pauses for a moment. “Professor also told us that it’s his favorite piece from a student. Overly-confident and daring, but meticulous and sincere. He said that it was written by someone who really, really likes literature….I’ve read it so many times too. I was so entirely inspired. Because your vision on Dazai and his _No Longer Human_ is just...wow, genuine and human, raw. I felt really connected to the person who wrote the paper..it’s kinda weird that I’m suddenly meeting them right now. And I’m sorry it sounded like you were going through some tough times...I didn’t hear details...but I’m cheering for you!” He continues his enthusiastic speech, like a fanboy meeting his idol. 

The student’s words take you back to first-year at Fukurodani. Bokuto had said the same thing about you years ago. In fact, even the way they spoke of you was the same. 

_“You really, really like literature huh? Your eyes are gleaming!”_

When did your love die? The monsters of the society continue to gnaw at your ankles, threatening to swallow the kindled flames of youthful passion. Is it still there? Can you still defend your spark against the hungry world? 

\---

You knock on the door of the teacher’s lounge. For the past week, your homeroom teacher, Watanabe-sensei, has been conducting individual meetings with students to review their academic and career worksheet. 

“Come on in.” A voice calls out, and you promptly push open the door. 

“Good afternoon sensei.” You greet the middle-aged woman who is currently looking over your worksheet and comparing it with the one you completed last year. It’s difficult for a second-year to really have a clear idea of what their life is going to be like. But everyone expects you to have an answer anyways, and it becomes increasingly difficult to change course once you start. 

“Last year, you said that you wanted to study mathematics and sciences for university. This year you put literature instead.” She states. “You know, your grades are perfectly competitive enough to continue your original track. Why did you choose something else? You aren’t interested in teaching, and in comparison, there are probably more options for you if you stick with the quantitative subjects.” 

“I think I found my passions in Literature instead. I enjoy it a lot more.” You respond. This isn’t the first time receiving some push-back for your shift. 

Watanabe clicks her pen a few times. “I had a call with your parents, they don’t seem too concerned either. But I just want to be sure this is the right choice you’re making. Most people don’t change paths, but the university exams for sciences are more demanding on math than the humanities. Strategically, it might make sense for you to go that route and save humanities as a back-up.” 

It’s not condescending. You know your teacher is giving clear facts and advice. If you were a teacher, you might say the same thing as a third-party. But you know what you want. 

“Thanks for your honesty, sensei. I think I have spent a lot of time thinking through these options, and I believe I’ll still stick with the humanities route. But if you’re concerned, I won’t let my other grades slip up. This is the right choice for me, I assure you. I hope you can support me and my sincerity. ” 

She looks convinced. “Okay. I’ll be watching you succeed.” Watanabe pushes her glasses up her nose and makes a few notes on your worksheet, filing it back to the folder. You thank her again and prepare to leave. Watanabe speaks up again. “Also, I should mention, Bokuto’s homeroom teacher told me the other day that his grades have been doing much better. I think I should tell you that you should be proud of yourself. Actually, have you considered helping out at the student council? They are looking for a Treasurer. You’ll definitely get a teacher’s endorsement from both of us.” 

She hands you a declaration of candidacy form. 

“Thanks, Watanabe-sensei. I’ll think about it. Bokuto is fun to work with, I’m happy he’s making good progress.” 

You walk out of the room full of confidence that you have made the right choice for your future. You look at the form for the student council, pondering if you should join. The writing club is fun, but this position offers some great opportunities too. The club is pretty chill so commitment-wise, it shouldn’t be a problem.

“Hey hey hey!!!” You hear Bokuto calling from you down the hall. He’s waving a stack of paper while running over. “Look at my scores! I’m a genius, I tell you! And you’re a genius!” 

You laugh at seeing Bokuto so hyped over his test marks. 

“A rare genius indeed Bokuto! How did you ever manage?” You act out in humored exaggeration. 

He really is a genius in his own way. Not just in volleyball. Bokuto’s observations of you released the last barrier you have over yourself. You will be honest with yourself. Take risks and leaps of faith. And like the Fukurodani motto, give everything you have to each ball. 

\---

“Where’s your badge? What’s your name?” You ask the student. His lanyard is hidden behind his work-apron. You open a bag and take out your business card. 

“It’s Hayashi Akira.” He accepts your card with both hands and a bow. 

“Hayashi. I’ll remember that, thank you. Let me know if you ever need anything, let’s chat again sometime. And for that old geezer...definitely proofread. He never gave me full marks because of that.” 

You hand the paper back to Hayashi, but Bokuto intercepts it in the middle instead. 

“You said you read this paper a lot of times already. I don’t think you need this anymore. I’ll take it then.” Bokuto reasons, squinting at Hayashi.

“Why do you need this paper Bokuto? He needs it for class.” You reason back. 

“I want to read what’s so inspiring too! And catch your grammar errors. You’ve read plenty of my papers.” Bokuto sticks his tongue out childishly. 

“It’s alright, that’s okay! I have a pdf copy, uh Bokuto.” Hayashi waves his hands. He stands in his spot and doesn’t move though. 

“Is there something else?” 

“Um...actually, Bokuto, do you think I can get an autograph? I’m actually also kinda a fan.” Hayashi shuffles his feet absentmindedly. Oho? Actually meeting an idol, no wonder he was so nervous, and even more so when Bokuto snapped at him. You thought he was all just caught up fearing he would offend you at first. That’s kinda funny actually...Bokuto almost scared his fan away, haha. Bokuto’s attitude also does a quick 180. 

“Hey, hey, hey! A fan!?!?! Yea, of course! You have something to sign on? I think I still got my marker in the bag.” 

Bokuto signs Hayashi’s t-shirt and takes plenty of photos. The night has already transformed into an impromptu fan-meet. Hayashi asks for a photo with you too, and Bokuto assures you your face shows no signs of crying. The puffiness probably adds a bit more healthy color and roundness instead. 

“Can you take one of us?” Bokuto asks, handing over his phone. “Aw man, it’s dead.”

“Here, use mine.” You hold yours out.

Hayashi steps back a little and frames the two of you sitting at the convenience store bar area. Bokuto puts an arm around your shoulder and flashes a victory v with his other hand. You take a look at the photo. The obvious pile of trash and tissues peeks out behind you guys. You haven’t seen yourself smile like that in a while. And you haven’t seen yourself next to Bokuto in a while too. Both of you have grown older. Your height didn’t change much at all, and your smiling face looks very similar to before, only slightly more modest and sophisticated. Bokuto features look sharp and defined, the traces of baby fat on his cheeks essentially gone. But the real attention grabber is obviously his volleyball shoulder and arms. He looks good. You two both look good. 

\---

“Bokuto stop moving around!” You scold. “Saru, can you move in a little more? Coach, please smile?” 

The journalism club has complained to you that the volleyball club hasn’t submitted their official club photo yet. You asked them why they couldn’t come to take the photo, but they said the team is always too preoccupied with practice. So you decide to use your little influence as a friend, read ‘a student council member’, to get the job done. And you finally understand why the journalism club is having so much difficulty. 

“Please just cooperate. The sooner we’re done, the faster you can get to practice.” You’re about to give up. “Bokuto, I’m not going to treat you out next time you forget your wallet again!” 

“Ah! Okay, okay.” Bokuto admits defeat and finally stands still, flashing a huge cheesy smile when you click the shutter. 

\---

After you two clean-up the messes, you thank Hayashi again and wish him a good night. For Hayashi, the evening became a remarkably memorable one. Convenience stores are truly a bizarre place. You and Bokuto walk down the street slowly. The wind continues to rustle through the trees, but the wind is gentle and sweet. Your hands are warmly tucked in your coat pockets. Heartbeat pounding effortlessly. You realize how long you have spent the night pouring out yourself to Bokuto, that actually, you still don’t know much of him. 

“Hey, Bokuto?” You ask, turning your head at him. You expect that he would be looking forward or elsewhere, but your gaze meets with him immediately, as if his eyes have never left you in the first place.

“Yea?” 

“How have you been? Uh, with training..and all.” And growing muscles, you want to add. You almost want to facepalm with how stupid you sound. Dig a hole and just hide in there. 

“How have I been? You see these pecs and thighs? I worked hella hard for them. That chest receive I did during the game was all made in the gym!” Bokuto excitedly shows off his gains to you. Extremely impressive. You laugh at his display. Bokuto looks pleased with your reaction and tones down. 

“In all honesty though, I think I learned a lot about myself. After the spring inter-high, I thought a lot. The finals that year really hurt, but I think it was because I was just so close to what I wanted so badly. But the quarterfinals against Kiryu’s school was the most important match for me, you know. Akaashi wasn’t at his best. I said otherwise to them, but I was a little worried we would end there. I truly felt like the weight of being the captain and burden as the ace. I used to just always enjoy spiking and winning, and when that didn’t work..heh, I’d be bogged down and irritated. I worked hard to be mentally strong. But now, I’m still having fun, with new teammates. Those guys are incredible. I don’t need to be number one. I just want to be my own very best with them and give my all to each ball that I play. Haha, that’s probably a lot, but what I really want to say is this. I really love volleyball.” 

_Pour all your soul into each ball._

They say when you are having an interview, you should always take notes or have a recorder. Because you’ll forget the information and the direct quotations by the time you actually need to write your article. But maybe that’s only for the vast majority. At the very least, at this moment, everything Bokuto just said is being recorded directly into your heart for eternal memory. Not a single word is going anywhere else. 

_‘Evolve’ is definitely the better word._

\---

There are about only two weeks left before the National Center Test for University Admissions. All the third-years planning on sitting for the exam are gearing up for the final sprint. Libraries and classrooms are filled with students trying to stuff every last bit of information into their minds. The air around the whole nation is full of growing tenseness and anxiety. Temples are seeing an uptick daily from families praying for their children’s success. You are also full of worry, but for different reasons. 

“The champion winners of the 2013 Spring Inter-high right here at the Tokyo Metropolitan Gym! Ichibayashi High! Beating out Fukurodani in an incredible match of 3:2!” The announcers and half the gym go wild. 

Your half is quiet and solemn, carefully watching the reactions of their representative athletes on center court. You feel tears well up in your eyes when the band captain lets out a premature sob. Some other sobs are scattered throughout the crowd. Most others are trying to hold on as much as possible, unwilling to let the group of boys below, who are no doubt hurting the most, hear more pain. 

“Thank you all very much!” Bokuto calls out to the crowd, bowing deeply. The rest of the team follow their captain’s lead and also bow to their peers. “Thank you!” 

“You were all the best!! You did great out there!!” The Fukurodani cheer teams and friends shout back, finally breaking into sobs. The athletes walk out the door to their locker rooms. The third years are biting their lips tightly, keeping composure until they reach privacy. Bokuto looks the most relaxed out of the lot. Even Akaashi looks to be shaking. 

_We’ll win Nationals this year, y/n. We’re going to the top!_

You rush out from your spot on the bleachers and sprint out the gym straight for the lockers. Promises to your mom that you’ll “return home asap to study” after the match goes out the window. Exams be damned. You catch your breath outside the lockers and sit down on a bench. Five minutes pass, then ten, and thirty. What should you say? You’ll tell him how great he was out there. You’ll tell him he did his best or how he lived up to the school motto. 

Akaashi comes out of the locker first. The delicate skin around his eyes is slightly pink. But otherwise, he looks the same as usual. 

“Hey...good game, that was an incredible match.” You say. Akaashi smiles and nods a thank you. It’s not as hard as you had imagined. 

“Let’s all go for dinner!” Bokuto yells, exiting the lockers. He’s smiling, except something is clearly off with it. Only the corners of his mouth are turned up, but they don’t go up to his eyes. Yea, it is going to be even harder than you had imagined. The rest of the team begins to shout their preferences. 

“Let’s have ramen!” Konoha suggests.

“ Nah, I want grilled meat.” That’s Washio. 

“What? That’s too heavy, I want some fish.” Sarukui complains. 

“Oya? You're is here too? You pick! What should we get?” 

You don’t know how to respond to being singled out, but grilled meat is usually Bokuto’s favorite. “Uh…”

“Okay, udon it is then! Let’s go.” Bokuto decides on his own. 

“Ooooh, udon sounds good!” The team agrees in unison. 

You call your mom to tell her you will be eating out for dinner and repeatedly assure her you’ll be back to study. Dinner goes by surprisingly smoothly. Like any other normal team dinners that Bokuto has dragged you to. Yukie is also there, having also ditched her studies. Bokuto laughs with his team, asks for seconds, and steals some side dishes from either you or Akaashi. Konoha tells his unfunny cold-jokes which everyone laughs at because the boy simply tries so hard. As the night grows, each member breaks from the group to head home. Soon, it’s just you and Bokuto left. You are convinced that Akaashi would stay with the two of you, but he ends up excusing himself too. 

Bokuto is trudging besides you slowly. His gaze is unfocused...looking off into nothing. You spot a vending machine off to the side and tug on the corner of Bokuto’s parka. 

“Let’s see if there’s ice cream.” You suggest, dragging him over. “Which one do you want? Cookies and Creme? Chocolate?” 

“Anything is fine,” Bokuto says softly. 

“You sure ‘anything is fine’? I’ll pick a random mystery one then. Don’t complain later!” You try to joke. It’s not working. 

“That’s okay,” Bokuto responds dully. 

You end up getting two chocolate bars and handing one to Bokuto. The two of you sit on a cement ledge off to the side, eating in silence. The sweetness turns bitter with each bite. You stare intensely at the chocolate, deciding if you should break the silence. Suddenly, you feel something heavy. Out of your peripheral vision, you see Bokuto bending over resting on your shoulder. You don’t shift around and ease your breathing to control your body movement. By carrying his weight, you hope that you can lighten his burden, even if it's just a little. The sound of silence continues to sing, accompanied by the strumming leaves and humming machines. 

“Did you have fun?” You ask gently.

“Yea, I did.” Bokuto finally responds, breath shaking. “I had a lot of fun.” 

You smile. “That’s good. I’m glad.” You lean your head on top of Bokuto’s. His hair smells like shampoo and the strands tickle your face and ears. You listen to his sniffles, wait for the sniffles to become choked sobs, and patiently listen to them become wails. 

“I’m so proud of you Kou.” 

\---

The night continues to grow deeper, wrapping itself around the two of you strolling down the street. The chatter about volleyball makes Bokuto itchy to play. He suggests going to a nearby basketball court to get some fresh air. 

“Don’t worry about your shoes,” Bokuto reassures, remembering your heels. “We can just toss the ball back and forth. You can sit on the bench too. Please??” 

“Okay, fine. Been forever since I handled a ball though. You’re going to have to play fetch more than once.” You finally relent, unable to say no to those golden, puppy eyes. You were no match for them in high school, and still no match for them now. They look even more pitiful and devious than before. How can pitiful and devious even coexist? 

“I can do that! Would you say I’m a good boy then?” Bokuto teases. If you thought the earlier embarrassment was bad enough to want to dig a hole, you’re sure you this time you need a bolt of lightning to just take you out. 

Your phone rings. Thank goodness for this timely savior. Bokuto peeks over your shoulder at the caller id. It’s Akaashi. 

You answer the call and prepare to greet him, but Bokuto grabs your hand in one of his and steals the phone with the other. 

“Yo, Akaashi.” You make a grab and miss. “Yea, she’s with me. Ah, did you call me? Sorry, my phone’s dead.” 

“Bokuto,” you hiss. Trying to grab the phone back. Akaashi is working late today, did he need any help? You don’t want to think of anything work-related after your whole ordeal, but you also worry about Akaashi. 

Bokuto’s face turns dark. “Yea."

“What? What’s going on?” You ask, entirely confused at where their conversation is going. Bokuto glances at you. His eyes tell you that you’ll find out the answers soon enough. 

“We’ll meet you at the park...yea, the one near your office. See you.” Bokuto hangs up and hands the phone back to you. “Let’s go.” 

You take the phone back and impatiently ask. “Okay, first you take my phone without asking and now you’re going to brush off my questions?” 

“Akaashi can tell you more when we get to the park, I think it'll be better if you hear it from him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think I was going to forget about the Bokuto Akaashi call mentioned at the convenience store before fanboy Hayashi jumped in or Bokuto’s dead phone? Hehe nope.  
> Extra Ramblings and Fun Facts:  
> •The Fukurodani quarterfinals legit got to me so hard in the manga. I was so moved by the character development in both Bokuto and Akaashi. And so many great quotes by Bokuto too. At time of posting, I am still shook over Tanaka's moment in S4 ep 16. Did anyone watch? Furudate doesn’t disappoint to ensure an arc for all of the primary and secondary characters. (I'm not crying, you are..we all are) 
> 
> •I love all the mottos from the schools. But if I REALLLY had to pick top 3. In no particular order, it would be: Fukurodani’s “一球入魂 Pour All Your Soul into the ball”, Inarizaki’s “We Don’t Need Memories”, and Itachiyama’s “Effort”. What about you? I'll give ya 4 slots if it helps. 
> 
> •Japanese school years are typically in three segments. The first term starts in April and goes to late July for summer vacation. This is when all the stereotypical training camp takes place along with the stack of ‘summer homework’. The second term starts in September until the end of the year for winter break. The third term starts in January and goes into March. (That’s why there are always cherry blossoms during those shoujo graduation scenes~ #young love and pink) 
> 
> •We know the spring interhigh is at the very start of January, and the University entrance exams are actually taken around the 18th. So Reader is really running around last minute for her precious owl. 
> 
> •The book referenced in the literature class is [No Longer Human](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/No_Longer_Human) by Dazai Osamu. It’s an incredible piece of literature and so important for the Japanese literature canon. It's a heavy and potentially triggering read, so I'm not going to recommend it for everyone.


	6. Magicians, Math, and the Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night draws on further when you, Bokuto, and Akaashi meet up at the park. Work, office politics, and adulthood can be put on full standby as the three of you remember the memories connected by the volleyball. If there's a mathematical formula to the operations of the universe, it's magic is starting to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So excited to share this chapter. And also updated the summary and tags for the story! I think I'm getting a much better feel for how to use the platform and make the tags accessible and accurate.

You have a million questions in your head about Bokuto, Akaashi, and Fujimoto. What is going on? It's Bokuto’s first time meeting Fujimoto today. What is Akaashi’s role in all of this? What’s going on between Akaashi and Fujimoto? You suddenly remember your brief conversation with Akaashi outside the bathroom before you headed out. He was definitely hiding something then. The hand fiddling should have given it away. But why didn’t he tell you about his call with Bokuto? 

Bokuto senses your uneasiness and tries to shift the topic. You don’t hang on to thoughts about dinner or work, happy to get your mind away from the mess. 

“Do you remember how we ended up playing volleyball for the first time?” Bokuto asks. 

You laugh, thinking about that memory. “Of course I do.” 

\---

“Hey?” Bokuto asks impatiently, sticking another pen into his hair. You continue to check Bokuto’s homework. It’s a Sunday at the local library. You occasionally glance up and wonder what black magic is in Bokuto’s hair that’s keeping the pens in place. “Let's go somewhere, I’m bored! I didn’t even run this morning and I’m feeling itchy all over the place.” 

“But you’ll play volleyball again tomorrow.” 

“Yea, but what about today.” 

“Your teacher told me your class will have a quiz on these trig problems this week. He means I gotta make sure you pass.” 

“Awwww, come on! We’ve been here all morning.” 

“Bokuto.”

“Okay…” Bokuto looks more and more dejected by the moment. His face turns sour and pouts off to the side, and pulls the pens out of his hair, grumbling. “Whatever, it’s just a stupid quiz. No big deal.” 

This continues on for a couple more minutes. Whenever you try to get Bokuto to redo a problem, or explain something, he would still be mentally checked-out. You reason that at this rate, he won’t be productive anyways. You glance at the clock. The two of you have been working for a while, and Bokuto did manage to arrive on time and sit for the duration. 

“Actually, I think we’ve been working long enough. Could use some exercise.” You stretch in your seat, sneaking a look to see Bokuto’s reaction. He’s still pouting and mumbling incoherent stuff under his breath. Since you have started tutoring and hanging out with him more frequently, you have been amassing a treasure trove of information you find out about him--such as his weaknesses. 

_Bokuto’s weakness #4: He can be petty._

You try a different approach. Bokuto’s weakness for grilled meat. 

“Wow, won’t grilled meat be so good after a workout? I think there’s a student discount too.” 

Bokuto doesn’t even budge and mutters, “I’m not hungry. I want to be a good student and study. I love math and math loves me.” 

_Bokuto’s weakness #5: He can be VERY petty_

This is more difficult than you imagine, but if there’s something that can overwrite this pettiness, it would be Bokuto’s 6th weakness. 

_Bokuto’s weakness #6: He loves to show off_

“I’ve heard stories from a friend about a volleyball player hitting an incredible cross-shot.” Bokuto’s ear twitches as he listens carefully. Hook. “But I can’t figure out who she is referring to. Is it Washio? Saru? Man, I wish I could see it in person.” 

Line. 

“It’s me! That’s me, Bokuto!” 

Sinker. 

“Really?”

“Hey, hey, hey! You bet, I’ll show you. Come on, let’s go to the courts.” Bokuto springs up and shoves his books into the bag. The librarian sharply hushes the two of you as you get dragged out. You lose half your soul by the time you two make it to the Fukurodani volleyball courts. You’re still not sure how you actually keep up each time, but it’s some untapped potential. 

“Oh no! I forgot today is Sunday!” Bokuto cries, trying to open the locked gym. He bangs his head against the doors and sinks to his knees. 

You pat his back, “it’s okay Bokuto.” You begin to formulate a plan in case he gets too fixated on showing you his cross-shot. You consider fishing out your wallet for a lunch-bribe instead. But he suddenly pops right back up and runs to a bush by the edge of the gym. He crouches and starts looking for something. 

You call out, “what are you doing?” 

“Found it!” Bokuto comes back with a dirty volleyball. Some leaves and twigs are stuck in his hair and clinging to his clothes. “I forgot I left it there because I accidently took a volleyball home after practice. But I returned it on a Sunday and decided to put it there. Guess I forgot to put it back, heh heh.” 

And so you clean off the ball at the water fountain and the two of you begin your tutoring session with volleyball. Bokuto patiently shows you how to hold the ball in preparation for a set, and walks you through the basic drill of bouncing the ball against the wall. You end up working with the ball way longer than Bokuto, who ends up fetching anything rolling away. The lunch hour passes by, but the two of you continue being absorbed in this exercise for a very long time. 

\---

“You got the ball stuck in the tree and I had to go get it.” You accuse Bokuto. 

“I didn’t know how to climb a tree okay and I was the one who got stung by a bee in the end.” Bokuto defends. “But you gotta admit, I was a great teacher.”

Bokuto was definitely a great instructor, equally enthusiastic and patient, but also a bit overzealous. These sessions happened a few more times and eventually, you ended up being at least sufficient to help out with his practices as reward for him sitting through tutoring. 

“Hey, do we even have a ball to play with? Don’t tell me there’s also a magical bush in Tokyo where you hide backups.” 

“Nah, not this time, I have one in my gym bag. There might be a magical bush in Osaka though.” 

You roll your eyes and shake the bag in question a little. 

“Your black-hole of a bag always has the most useful useless crap. I know you keep forgetting your wallet, socks, shoes. But somehow you always have expired food, manga, and some capsule toys.” 

It’s true. That’s how he ends up borrowing money from you or Yukie. Or why she’s in charge of bringing a set of Bokuto’s backup gear to every match. It’s difficult to decide which one is arguably more important: sports drinks for the team or Bokuto’s shoes. In the end, you suggest to Yukie and Kaori to establish a “Bokuto emergency fund for his forgotten stuff” where the other members and fans from the general student population chip in. 

Bokuto chuckles. “Oh yea, there was that one time I brought my passport instead of my wallet. I ended up losing my passport, haha, and got a call from the embassy a week later. Hey, stop laughing. I’m not like that anymore. What’s so funny?” 

“Hmmm. The universe.”

The October night sky is clear, however the streetlamps prevent you from seeing any stars. But you know they are still out there. Akaashi is already at the park by the time you and Bokuto arrive. You didn’t want to bring up the whole dinner and supposed recorder incident right from the beginning, but Akaashi breaks the ice instead. 

“I kind of got the gist of what happened from Bokuto. Sorry for not being more transparent with you earlier today.” You prepare to tell him it’s okay, but he motions for you to let him finish instead. “In the past months, I’ve heard things from both male and female co-workers about Fujimoto’s abusiveness and unprofessionalism. I only really experienced a bit when Udai and I got involved with him over zombie manga. When I found out today that he would take my place for dinner, someone gave me a tip that he might overstep boundaries, and so I phoned Bokuto. I should have been more honest with you about it from the start.” 

“Akaashi,” you begin, digesting everything he just said. “While that would have been probably better...there’s nothing for you to apologize for. I should thank you for looking out for me. I know that you have helped me in many ways even though I entered the firm a little earlier than you. Bokuto mentioned to me that I shouldn’t just see you as my junior or another co-worker. I think he’s right, it’s kind of arrogant of me after so many years of knowing each other. I hope that we can be good friends.” 

“Of course. I like the sound of that very much.” Akaashi’s brows finally relax a bit. 

The sentimental air between you and Akaashi begins to irk Bokuto off to the side, who find an opportunity to cut in. “Alright, alright. We’re all friends now finally. And not ‘Bokuto’s teammate’ or ‘Bokuto’s tutor’. Good good good. We can talk later. Let’s play already.” He pulls out a volleyball from his magician bag. 

The empty basketball court at the park provides a great space for activity. Only one group is playing basketball a few courts away. The bright lights illuminate the asphalt. After so many years of not holding a ball, it takes a while for your clumsy fingers and arms to coordinate properly. The three of you stand in a triangle and toss the ball back and forth, continuing some chatter. Usually it’s Bokuto and Akaashi holding a conversation. It’s a bit too much multitasking for you. As you get more and more comfortable with the ball, however, your feet begin to protest. Frustrated, you kick the shoes off to the side, much to the boys’ amusement. Akaashi also takes his jacket off and rolls up his sleeves. The light tosses become bumps instead. 

“Sorry…” You apologize, attempting to go after the ball rolling away. 

“I’ll get it, just stay there!” Bokuto orders, going to get the ball. “You’re already getting better!” 

“Ugh, maybe I’ll just sit on the bench instead.” 

“Nah, it’s more fun with three people. And Bokuto is right, you’re doing pretty good.” 

Bokuto comes back with the ball, and gives you some more pointers. 

“Make sure you keep form and remember to angle your arm upwards.” He demonstrates next to you and you follow his movement.

The next round of play goes by much smoother. Your body cooperates with you and you get a few good hits in too. The satisfaction at seeing the ball fly up is much greater than the sting currently growing on your forearms. 

“Yea! Like that!” 

As you watch the ball’s trajectory go up and down, then up and down again. You recall a particularly impressionable memory.

\---

It’s the summer before the second term of second-year. You prepare to meet Bokuto at the library. It’s been a few weeks since you have last seen him. Bokuto was at a training camp with the rest of his team and a couple of other rival schools. He had tried to convince the coach to let you tag along, and it almost worked, because no one wanted to deal with an uncooperative Bokuto. But you declined and told Bokuto that you would give him a surprise at the end of the camp. And only at the end of camp. He didn’t seem particularly interested, but you insisted the surprise would be volleyball related and unexpected.

_Bokuto’s weakness #15: Easily bribed...sometimes_

You didn’t lie though. The surprise is most definitely volleyball related. 

“Y/N! This isn’t a surprise, this is torture!” Bokuto slumps over your ‘surprise’--a stack of calculus problems you insistently call ‘volleyball problems’. When Bokuto finally got to calculus and physics last semester, trying to get him through the definition of a limit was an absolute nightmare. It took you hours to convince Bokuto why limits “exist”. He said that limits were “too cruel” and proceeded to wonder if his volleyball skill was capped too. Trust Bokuto to give numbers and math feelings. Then, while you were multitasking your own math homework while watching the volleyball training Bokuto dragged you to, it clicked. A perfect marriage of math, physics, and sports. So, as soon as summer vacation started, you cleared out all the student council mountains of paperwork quickly, and began your ambitious project: a valiant attempt to rewrite Bokuto’s calculus summer homework into volleyball related situations. Complete with diagrams. 

“It _is_ volleyball related.” You insist, trying to get Bokuto to take another look at your magnum opus. “The laws of physics and instruments of math all govern what you can and cannot do in sports. You know how you got your straights to work so well? I can show you mathematically what goes on and how to calculate the point where the ball is the fastest in a spike. Or what makes a serve really nasty to receive? What about the optimal defence placement? How fast do you need to dig? You can model exactly how a feint works. And also calculate the volume of air beneath a set.”

Truth is, most of the examples you list require _a lot_ more math than Bokuto is able to handle. You hope he won’t ask you about it and just be excited enough to absorb the content. Bokuto squints at you and tries to detect any sign of lying. 

“Sounds suspicious. I never think about numbers when I play.” 

“And you shouldn’t anyways. But magician’s math can show you how the true genius of volleyball is born from upsetting the balance of stillness and motion.” 

This some philosophical bullshit you are spouting to make it all sound cooler than it really is. Kind of like the motivational quotes floating around online with no connection with the photo it’s superimposed over, but it all still kind of makes sense and sounds good.

“Hm. Fine. Prove it.” 

Bokuto is still skeptical, but you begin to shoot your shot. And you eagerly show Bokuto the diagrams and cartoons you have been working on. 

“See this curve? Let’s imagine that’s Akaashi’s toss to you. Let’s say it takes 2 seconds for the ball to get to the highest point. If we divide the 2 seconds into 0.5 second sections, we can calculate the rate of change of the ball’s height from one increment to the next.” You continue to demonstrate how the ball’s height climb is increasing, at a decreasing rate. You hope that this will get Bokuto fully prepared to wrap a mind around the power derivatives. 

“But I don’t hit the toss at this peak,” Bokuto says, pointing at the vertex on the parabola. 

“You’re right Bokuto, but this peak, the vertex, is really important for Akaashi. He needs to control this point, so that when the ball is falling, it’s going to fall to the perfect height for you Bokuto. This will change depending on how quickly you get to the net and how far away your spiking location is away from Akaashi.” 

Bokuto looks at you in awe. He begins to understand the amount of technical intricacies that constitute his favorite activity. “Wow this is genius. Akaashi is a genius. Volleyball is genius. Hey, you are a genius.” 

“Yep, magician’s math.” You nod excitedly. The diagram and exercise to help introduce Bokuto to derivatives ends a success. The two of you spend the afternoon drawing more pictures of absurd volleyball calculus and new ways of imagining curves in the context of the sport. 

Bokuto unexpectedly even ends up finishing a big chunk of the homework. You did not plan for him to stay this long. Although you initially won’t complain, this thought also changes really soon.

“This is easy stuff,” Bokuto exclaims, still enthusiastic about the material in front of him. To him, math is no longer a befuddling puzzle, but rather, an odd distant relative of volleyball. And in the end, you’re the one getting impatient.

“You think you’ll be done soon, Bokuto?” For the first time, you are the one feeling like ending the tutoring session first. 

“I think I can be a math genius.” 

“Yea, say that again when you get to Fourier analysis or something.” You grumble. 

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Most definitely. Not bad at all.” 

\---

By the time you, Bokuto, and Akaashi decide to stop playing, the park has already become quite empty. The basketball players have left and the three of you are the only ones in that vast space. You plop down on a bench and massage your arms. You’re pretty sure some bruises will appear. After a few painful bumps, you opted to wear your coat backwards for some more cushion. Akaashi comes over from the vending machines with three drinks and hands one to you. You accept it gratefully and press the cool bottle against your face. 

“Ah, that’s so nice.” You gush. “That was a lot of fun.” 

The three of you rest on the benches, and rehydrate. You glance at your phone. 23:07. Just like how Cinderella’s ball gown disappears when the clock strikes midnight, all things must come to an end. Akaashi must have seen you look at the time.

“We’ll walk you home.” He offers. 

“That’s okay. I don’t live too far from here.”

“Hey, hey, hey! I want to see y/n’s place!” 

Per Bokuto’s curiosity, you end up walking home with your high school classmates. The three of you are like young asteroids, floating around in the midnight landscape of twinkling city lights. Bokuto tells more lucrative tales about high school times while Akaashi corrects the exaggerations, much to Bokuto’s chagrin. It doesn’t really matter though, does it? In fact, when it comes to memories, the technical details aren’t necessarily the most important. And no one really thinks about the mathematics of why something gets remembered. Maybe some people do, but at least not you right now. Somehow, you feel like you’re just an ordinary high school student again, walking home with some friends after an eventful day. And that’s what is truly precious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been really excited to incorporate the flashback where reader baits Bokuto in with "volleyball math". This particular night has been especially long for our characters, hasn't it? It's interesting how our perception of time is so shaped by our experiences, and how all of that might change again in our memories. Or perhaps the other way around? 
> 
> Some "Volleyball Math" for ya lurking nerds:  
> •Two GREAT nerdy reddit on the math behind Kageyama's toss and why/why not it can be a foul in real life: [first](https://www.reddit.com/r/haikyuu/comments/63vfhm/kageyamas_toss/) and [second](https://www.reddit.com/r/haikyuu/comments/465thc/kageyamas_backspin_sets_are_kinda_pointless/)  
> •[Basic Physic Laws within Volleyball ](https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1Q5lZapntW-ir0o78QddlW3mv__RJK4_ujlUfl4RPCSs/htmlpresent)  
> •[Application of Calculation on Sports](https://digitash.com/engineering/mathematics/how-to-apply-calculus-in-sports/)  
> •[Physics to Optimize Volleyball Serve (kinda advanced)](https://www.real-world-physics-problems.com/physics-of-volleyball.html)  
> •And the bigbrain academic paper that probably doesn't belong here:[A Mathematical Model for the Trajectory of a Spiked Volleyball and Its Coaching Application](https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/e65f/248bcfbce9b9b05726b28f42dc69173decdd.pdf)


	7. Wisdom of the Ace Pt I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto and Akaashi walk you home and decide to hang around a little while longer. Akaashi shares his thoughts on the feasibility of a corporate fistfight. Bokuto gives you a precious parting gift. And you find some closure for the gaps in your last few years.

After arriving at your apartment, Bokuto insists on a tour. So you invite both Akaashi and Bokuto in for a while and show them around your humble abode. At the same time, you offer to charge Bokuto’s phone. 

“EHH?! I have nine missed calls. And three of them are from the team manager!” 

Bokuto tosses the phone in the air and huddles in a corner. Akaashi catches the phone and opens the voicemail. 

“Hi Bokuto, this is Manager Akiyama, do you have your accommodations and travel itinerary figured out? Please share it with me as soon as possible. Thank you.”

“Hi Bokuto, this is Manager Akiyama, I received a call from Editor Fujimoto regarding dinner, said it went really well. Can you give me a call back at your earliest convenience? Thank you.” 

“Bokutoooo, this is Hinata!!! Pick up your phone!!!!” 

You see Bokuto still panicking in a corner. “He’s going to skin me. SKIN ME I tell you. I’m a dead man.” 

Akaashi kicks Bokuto’s legs, “your manager isn’t even the problem right now.” 

You click your tongue. “So he did call Bokuto’s manager huh, but not to complain...” 

Hearing this, Bokuto sits up straight and turns around, smacking his fists together. “So what’s going on. A fistfight?”

You stare blankly at Bokuto, “Um. How about no. You need a clean record.” 

Then you address the more reasonable person under the roof. “Akaashi, any thoughts?” 

“Yea, Akaashi.”

Akaashi sighs, “I would probably rather it be a fistfight. I fucking hate him.” 

Crickets chirp and four seasons pass before you come to a realization that Akaashi Keiji has swore. Even Bokuto is a bit confused. Akaashi breaks the silence and comes back into character.

“Sorry, he’s just a bad person to be around. There are a number of employees who have had issues with Fujimoto and his party of friends. Some people have brought this up to HR, I don’t think it’s been effective.”

Bokuto points at himself. “But I can vouch?” 

“It's not enough...and unfortunately, they won't see it as serious enough of a misdemeanor. Ultimately, the one keeping Fujimoto alive is Assistant Director Sato, who puts in a good word for Fujimoto at board meetings.”

You recognize Sato, who is part of the main board making the business decisions of which manga and novels to publish, when, and how. “Now that you mention Sato, he recently lost the opportunity to secure publishing rights for a novel, and not the first time either. Both manuscripts ended up as bestsellers with a competitor. There’s talk in the department he might have some trouble.” 

Akaashi nods. Bokuto also nods, rapidly, as if he is completely in tune with what’s happening.

“Yes. On our side, Fujimoto’s poor handling of the current mangas that are serialised, like what happened with Udai is often brought up. We’re losing many mid-level staff too.” 

“If they’re so bad at their jobs, they should just get benched or kicked off the team.” Bokuto comments, hugging a pillow from your couch. “If I argue with my teammates or keep hitting outs, the coach would just pull me out immediately.” 

“Companies are a bit trickier in some ways Bokuto.” Akaashi explains. “Workplace harassment isn’t really bothered with. But if we show their actions result in poor client relations, workplace morale, and company competition in the industry, then there is a good chance there’ll be an internal review. ” 

Bokuto looks at Akaashi, impressed. “Wow Akaashi, were you always this freaking smart? ”

You are also impressed by Akaashi’s clear observations on the current power balance and intricacies in the company. “He’s right, that’s a pretty sound analysis.” 

Akaashi fiddles his fingers slightly. “I’ve had enough of him dumping work on me too. It’d be great if he could just...go. But I don’t know who might be on our side.”

You know someone. “There is someone we can try. Assistant Director Matsuda. She was promoted a bit after Sato, and they always butt heads. It’s a known fact she hates him.”

“I know of her, but I’m not sure who can get close. I think-” Akaashi’s phone begins to ring. “Excuse me, it’s from Udai.” Akaashi picks up the phone and goes to the bathroom for some privacy. While Akaashi is gone, it’s just you and Bokuto left. He reaches an arm out and pats your shoulder. 

“Hey, don’t worry too much.” 

You smile at his words. “Yea, thanks Bokuto. It’s not just about me, those people are not good for anyone in the company. I think I’ve been under a rock or something.” 

“But no longer right?”

Bokuto goes over towards his bag and begins opening the zippers of the compartments. He tries a few locations and takes out a shirt from the black-hole. 

“Here,” Bokuto hands you a blue shirt. You recognize it as the ‘Way of Ace’ shirt he used to always wear in high school. “I don’t fit it anymore, but I keep it in my bag as a sort of good luck token.” 

You accept the shirt and look at the inscriptions on the back. Many multiple washings have faded the printing and loose threads are coming out from the seams. 

“Hey, remember what I told you before graduation?”

\---

It is still winter, but in certain areas, it’s already beginning to fade away. The spring inter-high ended a few weeks ago, and the university entrance exams are also over. It’s the final stretch for the third-years at Fukurodani. A waiting game. And finally in March, regardless of the results, it will be the end of high school. And the grey Fukurodani uniform will be finally laid to rest. 

You are walking around campus, trying to memorize the place you have spent the last three years. Each pebble, crevice, and shrub. You soon find yourself in front of the volleyball gym. You haven’t watched their practice very much this year because you’ve been so busy with your studies.

“Don’t snoop around, just come on in”. You turn and see Kaori standing behind you carrying a bunch of sports drinks.

“Sorry, here let me take some.” You apologize and take a few bottles from her arms that are at risk of falling. Inside the gym, you find the starting members of the volleyball club practicing. You and Kaori arrive just in time to see Bokuto hitting a straight. 

“Hey everyone! Drinks are here, and look who I kidnapped!” Kaori yells out, capturing everyone’s attention. 

“Hey!”

“Been a while!” 

“You haven’t come seen us practice in ages!” 

The team stops practice and greets you immediately. They thank you and Kaori and pick up their bottles for break time. You hand Bokuto his bottle and sit down next to him as he wipes sweat away with a towel. 

“Practice looking good...you doing okay?” You ask, remembering how hurt he was over finals. 

“Yea, I think we’re all good now. Akaashi will be the captain next year. The first year and second years this year are also strong. They’ll do well.” 

The two of you sit in silence for a while longer. 

“University of Tokyo, huh?” Bokuto suddenly lets out. “You’ll do incredible things there.” 

You look down and absentmindedly trace circles on the ground. “I don’t know if I’ll get in. Everyone applying has studied really hard.”

“You’ll get in. I’m going to play for the MSBY Black Jackal after graduation, I guess college volleyball just isn’t for me. They are a Division 1 V.League club though. Only the very best are in it. So, my athlete’s intuition is worth something.”

It barely makes any sense, but you chuckle a little at his declaration. He always has too much faith in you. Far more than you can ever believe in. He’s chasing his dreams, fighting his way already into the pro league already, taking off towards his goals and successes, leaving everyone else behind. 

“Bokuto! Break’s over, get back here!” Sarukui calls out. 

Bokuto gets up and stretches his arms, “Okay! Y’all better get ready! Hey hey hey!!”

Before he walks away, he turns and looks at you in the eye. 

“Trust me, because an ace knows another ace when he sees one.” 

\---

Of course you remember now.

“I’m going back to Osaka tomorrow. I hope this shirt can bring you luck like it did for me.” 

“Isn’t the season starting? Won’t you need it?” 

“You underestimate me! My training won’t fail me.” Bokuto stretches a closed-eye grin and gives you a thumbs up. 

You get a good look at his hands in the well-lit living room. Extremely short nails, some small scars, and a firm, muscular, sinewy structure on the back of the hand. And wrist upwards, beneath the skin of his forearm, clear muscle lines wrap around bone and tendons. Bokuto drops his thumbs-up and the muscles go back to their relaxed state. Without seeing anything further, his fingers, hand, wrist, and forearm already show the intricacies and complexities of a human body conditioned for peak athleticism. Dedicated artists and athletes have bodies that have naturally changed after repeated activities and training. It’s to optimize their performance and a testament to their blood, sweat, and tears. 

You return with a smile and accept the shirt. “Well then, ace. Let us see the results of your training.” 

You hear the bathroom door open and Akaashi walks out. “Hey, about time we leave, Bokuto. We should let her rest now. Let’s continue this talk over the weekend.”

“It’s alright, it’s not that late.” You look at the phone. “Haha, nevermind. You two should get home and rest too.” 

You see both Akaashi and Bokuto out the door and come back to your living room. A moment later, you immediately chase after both guests again. 

“Bokuto! Bokuto!” You shout, running after them in your house slippers. “Your phone!” 

You run up and hand the almost-forgotten contraption that was still left charging. Bokuto apologizes and sheepishly accepts the phone, thanking you profusely. 

“Thanks, else my manager will really kill me.” 

“Can’t have that happening. Haha, okay, good night. Talk to you soon.” 

“Yea, good night. Talk to you soon.”

You walk back to your apartment, the voices of Akaashi and Bokuto chattering growing further away. After a long, hot shower you lay on your bed and scroll through your phone. You look at the photo of you and Bokuto taken at the convenience store earlier tonight. So much has happened tonight that it feels like it’s been years since yesterday. And it feels like the hiatus with Bokuto never happened. You zoom into your face in the photo, scrutinizing it more. 

“Lies, I look like a trainwreck.”

You send the photo over to Bokuto’s number and add a line: _Good luck with the season start. You’ll be great, from one ace to another._

You toss your phone aside and sit up. A force attracts you to open your closet and begin to rummage through the contents. Half your closet gets emptied before you find what you are looking for. A stash of all your old journal entries. You pick out the grey book on the very top and turn the pages. Most of the pages are blank. This is the last journal you have started.

_It’s been a long semester and I haven’t been writing much. Everything is happening so quickly and I feel like I’m falling behind. Even sitting down to write here is becoming a chore. I don’t know if I’ll ever come back to reading this, maybe a year, two, or five years later. Maybe never. If you do, can you at least say to me that you are happy? I want to know._

That is the last journal entry you have written. Some time at the end of the first year of university. So what really happened between that time and until now? You grab a random pen from your desk and write below the entry. 

_No, I’m not. But I’m going to be working on it. I’m sorry I left you alone for so long. You were hurting and lost, but you’ll be okay. I’ll protect you. I believe in us._

A thought crosses your mind and you jump up from your bed and continue to dig through the closet. You find a bundle of cheap ballpoint pens you have collected from the past few years attending recruiting events, conferences, or meeting clients. You kept them anyway because throwing it out is a waste. You pick one out and turn to a fresh page. Images fill your mind and words fill the page. Sharing your experiences with Bokuto earlier made you remember everything. You begin from the end of the first year of university and write what you remember from the second, third, fourth year. You write about the professors you loved. The classes you hated. The friends you have made and lost. 3 AM nights, 5 AM nights, and the times where you watch both the sun and moon rise. When one pen begins to die, you toss it aside and grab another. The frenzy continues and you continue to write about the good clients you worked with and the ones that are absolute crap. You do so, with their company swag. Every curse, damnation, and resentment gets tattooed onto the pages. Your arm burns as you demand it to keep up.

Cracked plastic pieces and popped springs lay around the floor. You go back to the box and pick out the journals from the first one you kept and slowly begin to read through it all, retracing your steps from day one. The cover is a particularly questionable aesthetic, but it was popular back in the days. You find your old writing endearing and sweet and most definitely horrid. You pick up another one, a gift from Yukie when you first started high school at Fukurodani. It’s been forever since you have talked to her. How is she doing? You continue to turn pages, open up flaps and hidden compartments you have engineered in. Glued in polaroids with friends, brochures from trips, and faded receipts from exploring the town. You identify one, barely, because you had written off to the side “Bokuto FINALLY didn’t forget his wallet. This is his treat.” 

It’s all coming together. You remember everything now. Sleep has no business with you tonight. In the moment, all you want to do is shout and scream through your words. You don’t have an empty journal, so you just grab the legal pad from your work bag and get started. You begin to recount the events starting from two days ago. Your trip to Sendai and back now in Tokyo. About dinner, about Hayashi, the boy at the convenience store...about Bokuto, volleyball at the park, and a corporate fistfight you never wanted to get involved in but here you are. If things escalate, you are ready to throw hands. You’ve been wandering off into the woods for a really long time, not sure where you’re headed. But you see the soft grassy field ahead now, beyond fiery ashes. Outside your window, the sky is starting to brighten. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> •This wraps up the first personal arc for reader ! I see lots of positive development around the corner! This also ends most of the flashbacks because reader has gotten back in tune with her neglected past. New memories shall be made!  
> •I really like Stravinsky’s Firebird and  Disney’s Fantasia 2000  (who’s old enough to remember this :D) did such a beautiful homage of it. It’s a story about cyclical forces of life, death, and rebirth.  
> •There’s an exciting Part II, focusing on Bokuto, coming out this weekend.


	8. Wisdom of the Ace Pt II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Details of the events of what happened to Bokuto and Akaashi after they leave your apartment. Bokuto tells Akaashi the reason why the two of you stopped hanging out as much in the third-year at Fukurodani. And Bokuto learns about how you and Akaashi have been keeping “tabs” on his weaknesses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who has read this story so far, given kudos, comments, bookmarked, subscribed, just giving it a chance. For a first fic, I didn't expect so much love already, so thank you all, and I hope you'll continue to enjoy this journey with me. <3

Akaashi’s apartment is a good reflection of its owner. The surfaces are clean, the books are organized, and the kitchen is well stocked. The style isn’t what one would call minimalistic, but rather there is a sense that everything's meant to be where it’s supposed to be. Bokuto steps out of the bathroom, towel drying his hair. Unless someone was quite well acquainted with the athlete, it might be difficult to actually link the two together. Not everyone gets to see the owl with his hair down. Bokuto plops down on the couch and glances at Akaashi’s computer. He’s still typing notes in the margin of a manga chapter, making edits and suggestions. Ever the hard worker. 

“How’s work coming along Akaashi.”

Akaashi doesn’t stop typing. “The usual as you know. Wanted to be in Literature, but Manga is pretty fun too. Udai is great to work with and everyone hates Fujimoto.”

Bokuto chuckles, “Will he cause problems?” 

Akaashi pauses and shuts his laptop. “Fujimoto? Probably, but his professional track-record isn’t so good. Like she said, the assistant director usually saving Fujimoto is likely getting demoted too, so Fujimoto probably won’t live very long either. I just need to get my own work done...and stay away from them.” 

Bokuto lets out a groan. “This is all so messed up. Volleyball is much more straightforward. And you have to work together on the court. And a point is a point, no contention.” 

“You know that’s not completely true either,” Akaashi replies. “The politics behind choosing the starting players…oh remember the match against Nohebi my first year? How they call every ball on the line ‘out’?” 

“Those damn snakes! I never gave them a piece of my mind!” Bokuto leans back on the couch, eyes closed. “Yea, you’re right. Nothing’s easy anymore. Man, you all really coddled me back then. I’m pretty sure I almost got booted from MSBY. Took me three years to finally be in the starting line-up. Mentally, it took me a while to not get upset over every little mistake or blocked spike.” 

Akaashi laughs, remembering the Fukurodani team's efforts to pull their ace back together whenever Bokuto loses his will. Akaashi stands up, goes to his shelf, and pulls out two books. When he comes back, he hands one to Bokuto and places the other down on the coffee table.

“ _Bokuto’s Weaknesses & Relevant Solutions: A Primer _? What the hell is this thing.” Bokuto asks, flipping through the pages and reading some out loud. “Likes to show off? Okay fine that’s me. But petty? I’m NOT petty. Isn’t this her handwriting? Why do you have this? Wait there’s more? #37 If he becomes too fixated on one thing, he’ll completely forget how to do anything else. Akaashi you wrote this, didn’t you. What is this.” 

Bokuto jumps up to his feet, standing on the couch, stomping around on the cushion. Akaashi rubs his temples a bit and tugs on the end of Bokuto’s pants.

“Sit down, the couch is expensive. Y/n started it when she started tutoring you. She stopped at around #15 and gave it to me when I joined the team as a setter.” 

\---

Akaashi is walking towards the gym after class for practice. He finally remembers where everything is located: the classroom, the gyms, the cafeteria...high-school is so much bigger than middle school after all. 

“Hey, are you Akaashi from the volleyball club?” A voice calls out. 

Akaashi turns and spots you walking over to him. He recognizes you from the last time Bokuto introduced you to him. 

“Ah, hello.” Akaashi greets you. “I’m about to go to practice, is there something you need?” 

You go up to him and hand him a thin booklet. “Not in particular, I just wanted to give you this. I think you’ll find much more use for it than me.” 

Akaashi looks at the cover a little stunned. You smile seeing the boy’s reaction. You quickly explain. “Bokuto’s strengths are plenty more than these supposed weaknesses. But they do prevent him from performing at his potential. He’s a very vibrant and fun person to be around.” You pause and look out the window. “Whenever you stand next to him, you just want to see him succeed. I hope you will be able to help support him during those times when he’s kind of out of it. And in turn, he’ll lead the way for the team.” 

Akaashi accepts the primer with thanks and reads through the contents while walking to the gym. Bokuto and the other upperclassmen are already there warming up. When they notice him walking in, they greet him enthusiastically, telling him to hurry and join. Akaashi smiles, high school might just be a lot more fun than he anticipated. 

\---  
The two best friends continue to squabble about the text. 

“You’re telling me she stopped at #15 and you continued all the way past 50? What am I to you Akaashi.” Bokuto bemoans, holding his head between his hands. Akaashi’s amusement only further fuels Bokuto’s theatrics. 

“You don’t need it anymore, I’m sure. You have already overcome most, if not all of them with just self-awareness and better training.” 

“Training huh…”

Bokuto muses while chatting with Akaashi about his own training. Akaashi knew most of it, but there are always details missed here and there. Bokuto joined a professional league as an 18 year old while most other players were university-graduated volleyball athletes, like Sakusa, who was deemed the MVP in the university division. Those coming from the college-division were older, stronger, experienced, and educated. Usually, recruits straight from high-school were rare. There’s Kageyama from Karasuno and Ushijima from Shiratorizawa. And Hinata in his team didn’t go to college either. But those are all exceptions. Even after the first year of new recruits training, Bokuto wasn't in the better half of the team. Working with new people, and a different setter altogether unnerved him. And he was alone in Osaka. Those days, he wondered if he actually knew how to play the sport, having to essentially start from square one again. It took three years before Bokuto’s doubts were finally answered in the form of an official position as an outside hitter in the starting line. These days he still worries sometimes, but mostly he just focuses on doing his best--trusting his training and believing in his teammates. 

“Bokuto, I always wondered why you two stopped talking in your third year. The team actually wondered the same thing.” Akaashi asks, shifting the topic. The others used to bug him to ask Bokuto, but something told him that Bokuto didn’t really want to talk about it. 

“Her grades were dropping,” Bokuto says bluntly. “I overheard the teachers talking to her. She was spending too much time figuring out how to teach me. Unless it was a sports scholarship or something, I was definitely not cut out for college. It’s a waste of her time.” 

In the end, Bokuto told you that he didn’t need any more tutoring. You didn’t understand and wondered if the problem was your qualifications. When you brought this up to his teacher, his teacher also told you to listen to your homeroom teacher. You were supposed to be a strong candidate to gain entrance to a top university. And your success would also pull up Fukurodani Academy’s overall standing. Bokuto had his own path, and the time where it crossed with yours, has passed. 

“Volleyball took up a lot of my time. Studying took up hers. I guess I just didn’t expect us to just stop hanging out as much either, and suddenly years have passed...but I hope we’re going to be able to talk more now.” 

Akaashi thinks back to the events today and how comfortable you seemed to hang out with himself and Bokuto. You just might be back in touch with everyone very soon. A lot of things have happened in the past few years, but there’s more than enough time to slowly catch up. 

“Hey, that’s the book she wrote her paper on _._ ” Bokuto points at the volume of _No Longer Human_ on the coffee table. 

Akaashi picks it up and hands it to Bokuto. “Yea, didn’t you say you wanted to read her paper? I thought it might be useful to also read the novel too. You can have it.” 

“Isn’t her writing good? When I told you she’s way smarter than you, I mean it.” Bokuto says excitedly. 

“Sure, sure. I haven’t read the paper, but I don’t doubt you. You should probably read it first though...not tonight though, you have to catch the train tomorrow morning.” Akaashi advises, getting up to go take his shower. 

Bokuto lays down on the couch and when he hears the sound of the showerhead, he begins reading the paper. Will the writing made by you give him a picture of what a university you were like? The tone is odd, academic, and some words, unfamiliar. He opens his phone, intending to look up ‘pertinent’ and ‘disposition’. Instead, he sees two messages from you. He opens up the app and sees the photo from the convenience store. And the words: _Good luck with the season start. You’ll be great, from one ace to another._

Bokuto smiles, saves the photo, and quickly types back: _Thanks, watch us win._

He pauses, then adds a line. _I’m NOT petty._

By the time Akaashi comes out of the bathroom, Bokuto is already sprawled over the couch fast asleep. Chuckling at the sight of the large athlete dozing off like a baby, Akaashi walks over and carefully removes the phone and paper still resting across Bokuto’s chest. Then after tossing a blanket over his form, Akaashi adjusts the thermostat, turns off the lights, and heads to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • Bokuto clearly shows self-awareness when he was watching Tanaka during the Karasuno-Inarizaki match. And after many years with MSBY, he demonstrated that he became mentally stronger. The national team coaches were saying that it was really the only thing holding Bokuto back. I loved seeing all of Fukurodani cheering their beloved Ace on during the timeskip match. Bokuto truly has 'evolved' as Reader put it.  
> • I checked the rosters for the VLeague players, such as [ Panasonic Black Panthers](https://panasonic.co.jp/sports/volleyball/en) (what MSBY is based off of), and noted that basically all of them went to university and played in the university divisions (mostly Chuo, Waseda, Tokyo Sport).


	9. Did You Eat Well?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto has left Tokyo for Osaka to prepare for the start of the V. League Season. You are ready to start anew at your workplace and reach out to old friends. But somehow Bokuto’s influences don’t stop seeping into your daily life. When did conversations with him feel like a new acquaintance rather than old friends?

You open your eyes to the autumn rays shining through your window. The sunshine of October is still very bright, but it doesn’t have the same warmth as summer. You sit up and rub the sleep away. The bed, the floor, and the closet are a complete mess--proof of the demonic frenzy the night before. What time is it now? You open your phone to check. 

A text message from Bokuto: “ _ I’m NOT petty.”  _

What’s that about? What pettiness? 

And a text from your dad: “ _ Make sure you’re eating well. And call your mom.”  _

You roll around in bed and decide to dial home. The call gets picked up quickly. 

“L/N residency, who are you looking for?” That’s your mom. 

“Hi…” you croak out, your voice cracking in the morning. 

“My god, you sound awful.” 

“Just woke up, saw dad’s text.” 

“Huh. If your dad didn’t text you, you would have forgotten all about your poor mother. Some daughter I have.” She mutters. She’s not angry, just snarky, as usual. That tells you she’s doing well.

“Sorry, I’ve been busy.” 

“I keep telling you. Should’ve picked something easier to do, less competitive. Look at you now. Just quit and come back home if they’re not treating you well okay.” 

“Thanks mom, love you too. I’ll take care of myself.”

She sighs, “you say that all the time. If you really want me to stop worrying, come visit sometimes okay? Otherwise I’ll show up at your door.” 

“Let her live her life!” You overhear your dad calling out in the background. 

“Haha, I’ll talk to you later then Mom. Bye Dad.” 

“Make sure you eat well! And dress warmly!” 

“Yup and will do. Bye.”

You hang up and haul your body up to the bathroom, taking a good look at yourself in the mirror. Dark inky streaks on your face. You look at your hand and sigh. Must have been from ink smears and then you touched your face. You’ll clean up and start new. You’ll fulfill your promise. Take care of yourself and love yourself. 

You decide to call Akaashi, because maybe Bokuto is still sleeping or something. He picks up and tells you, instead, that Bokuto left very early in the morning for Osaka. Oh. Right. Bokuto is probably already in Osaka then. Akaashi then asks if you want to meet up for brunch. You get to the cafe around noon. 

“Did you sleep last night?” 

You chuckle and admit, “Not much, but I feel GREAT. I think meeting Bokuto again really helped me. There’s so much that I realized I had forgotten...and I also called Yukie you know, to see if we can catch-up.” 

A few minutes into the meal, Akaashi says, “I showed Bokuto the primer you wrote and gave to me.” 

You look up from your food. “Really? No wonder he sent me that text.” You show Akaashi your phone and he starts to laugh. 

“That’s Bokuto alright.”

“The season is starting right? Think he’ll be okay?” 

“He’ll be fine I’m sure. You said he ‘evolved’ right?”

“Right.” You agreed. If it’s Bokuto, you don’t have much worries about him at all. 

The topic slowly shifts back to events at work. Upcoming projects and dues, as well as what to make of the special issue. Akaashi mentions wanting to debut Udai’s new volleyball manga. It’s still very much in its preliminary stages, since Udai was just inspired to make it at the Sendai match. But there’s still many days until publication. You tell Akaashi that you’re still in the process of brainstorming on some more ideas to include. It’s been a source of stress. Talks of this project gradually shifts to a conversation about the “fistfight”. You decide that you’ll have to be the one to approach Assistant Director Matsuda. One step at a time.

Monday soon comes around the corner and the city’s office folks are seen hustling and bustling to their work stations.You follow the moving crowd, swipe your badge in the lobby, and shuffle into one of the many elevators going up. 21 floors above Tokyo. But no more fear of heights. After putting your bags down, you take a booklet out and head straight for the resources room. Some people are waiting in line for their printouts. You go to the shredder and turn the machine on. The journal in your hand feels extremely light, but the contents within are much darker and heavier. The journal in which you cast your nightmares away in. You rip pages out and feed it into the machine’s turning teeth, watching the pages shrivel and wither away. Chewed up forever. Goodbye.

When you get back to your desk, you find someone sitting in your seat looking at some of the simple decor you have. Assistant Director Matsuda. The aura this woman commands is suffocating. Her eyes are sharp and judgemental. Lips turned upwards in a witty, assertive manner. A hunter who has made her way up the food chain.

“I saw you in the resource room earlier. Took quite some time shredding papers. Destroying evidence?” She asked, grin growing wider. 

“Something like that.” You shrug. Not a complete lie, but not offering more information either. 

“Tch. No fun.” She gets up and taps your shoulder. “Take a walk with me, will you?” 

You follow her to one of the balcony spaces of the building. Matsuda lights a cigarette and takes a long drag, breathing out a puff of smoke. 

“If you make it to where I am today, you would be smoking too,” she says with another puff. “You are a woman, I don’t need to tell you. It’s a man’s world here. Unless you’re willing to bare your teeth, you’ll just be chewed up and thrown away. Like you.”

“I’m different now.” 

“After just what happened with Fujimoto? Horrible man that person by the way.” You whip your head to look at her. You haven’t even said anything to her yet. “Don’t look at me like that. Give me some more credit.” 

Your breathing quickens and becomes more shallow. Your brain goes on overdrive trying to think about what you should do. Matsuda’s calculative eyes strip you naked and vulnerable. She’s exerting an immense amount of pressure on you. You need to quickly break out of her rhythm and assert your own. Trust yourself. Remember what Bokuto told you?

_ Trust me, because an ace knows another ace when he sees one.  _

“Since you know already, that saves me a lot of trouble.” Your voice is steady and calm, even if your heart is beating wildly. “I want to assist you, in hopes of changing some of the leadership in this place. Like you said, it’s a man’s world here. People like Sato and Fujimoto are detrimental to both men and women working with them. It’s only time before the whole company loses more talent and growth opportunities.” 

Matsuda gives a light snort and starts to laugh, shaking her head back. After she collects herself, she puts out her cig on the railing. 

“When you said you were different, I was curious what changes you’d bring. How much can a pushover change over a weekend? I’m surprised.” You don’t respond, waiting for her to finish. “Few years ago, I reviewed your resume and voted no on yours. I remember distinctly. I didn’t think you could succeed. Does that make you uncomfortable?” 

“Yes and no.” You say without hesitation. “I know I’m lacking in many areas. Mentally, professionally. I-” 

Matsuda cuts you off. “Do you love literature?” 

_ You must really, really like literature don’t you?  _

“Of course. It’s my dream to work here.” You try to explain. How can she cast any doubt on this identity of yours? 

“Sure working here is a dream. Decent pay. Look at this view! But how can I entrust an author’s work, their child, to someone who treats this as merely a job?” 

You remain silent, taking in Matsuda’s words to your heart. She sighs deeply. “Corporate politics won’t stop anywhere. The perfect work culture...you won’t find it. But what keeps you coming back here? If you can give yourself the luxury to have an answer other than ‘to pay bills’, then count yourself truly blessed. Find yourself then come back to me.” 

You listen to the woman attentively, like a mentor and older sister. She chuckles slightly, fixes her hair and leans backwards against the balcony. 

“Sato is losing his position for sure, but I also put in a word so that he’s going to be here still, tossed to Reporting.” You widen your eyes in slight shock. Of course you wouldn’t know about any internal, higher up decisions. “Now, now, don’t give me that look. I’ll let you in a secret.” Matsuda leans in close to your ear. 

“I didn’t save him a position to help him. He still has his uses. Right here under my nose, he has nowhere to go. I like to keep my enemies close. As for Fujimoto, you can tell your junior there that he can expect the winds to change. Fujimoto’s nothing, we’ll just let him go.”

You’re still at a loss for words when Matsuda pulls away. 

“As for you, I like your eyes. They remind me of my own at your age. I think you can be a threat to me too. I’ll be keeping you close as well.”

The rest of the day passes painstakingly slow. You want nothing more than to barge into Matsuda’s office and ask questions boiling in your head. The clock ticks away. You shove the thoughts aside. Whatever. When the day ends, you’ll be meeting up with Yukie for the scheduled dinner get-together. You want to make an effort to reach out and make up for missed time. You don’t notice a co-worker next to your desk holding a file in hand. 

“Do you think you can take care of this for me? I have dinner to go to, it’s super important. I’ll just leave the files here, it’s urgent.” 

You take a deep breath. You can do this. You flash the best customer service smile you can afford. “Hey! I have to go early today too, so I can’t. I also have a lot on my plate right now. If after tomorrow you still need help, I can take a look...after I finish my work.” 

“Oh, no. It’s okay, nevermind then, sorry to bother you.” 

Nicely done y/n! The clock hands finally signal the end of work. You meet Yukie at an izakaya in between your work locations. Although Yukie no longer eats the large amount of food like she would back in the days, her love for some well smoked, beautifully grilled meat did not change. You two clink a beer glass and enjoy the delicious small platters. Any nervousness you had prior to dinner is washed away immediately. You two catch up easily, listening to each other’s stories. Yukie tells you about her adventures becoming a nutritionist, working with clients, and holding seminars. 

“It’s so nice we can sit here and chat like this.” Yukie sighs, downing another gulp of beer. “Adulthood is so hard. Everything was so fun back then.”

“Yea,” you admit, taking a bite of the appetizers. “But, we’re all doing our best. We’ll be okay.” 

“So, how’s Bokuto?” She asks. “I last saw him in person at a Fukurodani get-together, but that was like two years ago. I watched the match a few days ago though.” 

“Hm, he’s, how should I put it.” You think back to Bokuto during the match, the Bokuto standing up for you during dinner, the Bokuto listening to your rants in the convenience store, and the Bokuto who told you again right before he left that he believed you. “The same as before? But more mature? Grown up now?” 

“No matter how much he grows, he’s still the same Bokuto we know from high-school.” 

You laugh in agreement, “that’s true too.” 

After many more chatter and empty plates, you and Yukie finally part ways, planning another meal or activity with Kaori next time. Or even a Fukurodani reunion. Throughout the night, you wonder if you should text Bokuto. You think about how remembering his words to you gave you some courage. You already said too many ‘thank you’s’. But you didn’t get to say goodbye at the station. When you get home, you type some phrases out. 

_ Hey, how’s Osaka?  _ That’s dumb.

_ “Sato is getting demoted.” _ You delete that, not everything is about you and work. 

_ “How’s training?” _ Good, of course. 

_ “Did you eat well?” _ What are you, his mom?

You give up and head off to take a shower. When you come back, you sprawl across your bed with your phone. A text from Bokuto and two missed calls. 

_ “Saw you were typing some stuff, but stopped. Is everything okay?” _

You prepare to reply back: “ _ Yea, just wanted to say thank you again.”  _ You inwardly groan. For a literature student you really have no words left huh? Before you can send the text out, your phone begins to ring, making you jump slightly. 

Caller ID: Bokuto Koutarou

Speak of the devil. What should you do? You fumble with the phone and press the accept button, holding the phone to your ears with both hands. 

“H-hi Bokuto.” 

“Hey! You picked up!” He sounds a little panicked and surprised that you picked up.

“Sorry I didn’t pick up your call earlier,” You explain. 

“I saw you typing then stopped,” He says at the same time. 

“You first.” What do you say? Your mind blanks and the first thing you blurt out is one question you hear over the phone all the time. 

“Did you eat well?” 

Bokuto pauses for a moment. “Yea! Went out with a few teammates, have you heard of Onigiri Miya? Atsumu’s twin brother Osamu owns it. Really good stuff.” 

“Yes!” You say almost too eagerly. “I met him at the match in Sendai.”

“Ohh! I see!”

Another pause. 

“Did you have something to ask me?” You ask. 

“Um, nothing much. Just checking in to see if you’re doing okay. With work and all.” 

“It’s all working out I think.” You take a comfortable spot on your bed and tell him briefly about your Monday. You mentally remind yourself over and over again not to overdo it and bore Bokuto with unnecessary industry jargon and too many details. It’ll make you sound conceited, you tell yourself. And Bokuto will be bored, you reprimand yourself. You also mention how you met up with Yukie for dinner.

“Yukie? Our manager from high-school? How’s she doing? I heard she’s a nutritionist now.” 

“Mhm. We just caught up a bit since-” 

“Oh wait. I have another call coming in from my manager, probably about the local school event.” Bokuto interrupts. “I’m sorry, can we talk later?” 

“Of course, no problem! Sorry for taking up your time.” You say, ending the conversation quickly. “Good night Bokuto.” 

“Good night, and not at all! Sleep well.” 

You end the call and get ready for bed. Bokuto’s going to be so busy now, with the season starting, it’ll be pretty much multiple games a week, traveling all around Japan until around March. So many fans all over the nation will watch his games, and children will find their inspiration in his image and maybe even go for lessons. Children. Inspiration. Lessons. 

“Damn it Bokuto, right when I think I say too many “thank you’s” like a broken record, here you are again helping me.” You sigh under your breath, jotting down the ideas that you have in your head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> •If someone called me and asked “did you eat well” I would feel very much in their thoughts and loved. My grandma would ask me that every single time I talked to her. I hope everyone reading this is eating well too!  
> •An [izakaya](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Izakaya) is a sort of informal bar with alcohol and various small platters and comfort foods. It’s very popular amongst office workers after work.  
> •D-d-d-does this mean Bokuto was also looking at Y/N's chat profile? Oh ma gerd, yes he was!!! Time to blush and squee.  
> •Next chapter WILL have a huge chunk of ‘fluff’. Friends, it’s all happening.


	10. How Does a Volleyball Fly?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a month since Bokuto left for Osaka. You are performing well at your job and finally discover the piece of literature to include in the special issue. There’s so much going on towards the end of the year. A lunch meeting with a peculiar ex-Nekoma captain. A video call with Bokuto on a beautiful autumn day. And what’s this, an offer to transfer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is the 10th chapter already. AHHH! Thanks everyone who commented last chapter. Love you all. Did I hear someone ask for fluff? It’s not Halloween yet, so how about some appetizers first?

A month flies by quickly with the turn of a page. You have been finding a much more comfortable rhythm, forming health connections at work, keeping a clear boundary for your personal time, and also making space for catching up with friends. So far, you’ve met up with Yukie a couple more times, Kaori as well, and a couple of other high school and university friends who are still in Tokyo.  During this time, you have also been keeping your word and staying in touch with Bokuto, despite the busy schedules. At first, the two of you would have very short conversations, unsure of what to talk about. It took some more “getting to know each other” again. Gradually, the calls became a bit longer, and a little bit more dynamic. You learned more about Bokuto’s teammates. You knew their names from that player guidebook you had. But hearing stories about them from Bokuto gives you a lot more insight. There’s Hinata, of course, whom Bokuto calls “his first student”. Miya Atsumu, the twin of the onigiri maker. Sakusa, who Bokuto says is snarky, but actually a big softie. And the other half of the starting line Bokuto dubs “the adults of the team”. You have also watched his matches sometimes, alone or with Akaashi.

Remember Bokuto’s unintentional inspiration to you regarding his team’s charity work with a local school? Well, you have been on a hunt to seek out a story focused on volleyball education, something inspirational for the little ones. It’s been a while since you brought the idea up to Assistant Director Matsuda, but since the proposal, you haven’t actually found  _ the  _ story. With other work piling, you haven’t found the time either to look. Since working closely with Matsuda, she has guided and mentored you through many challenges. You are eager to show her the different, true side of you that has been dormant. 

Matsuda calls for you. “Can you take care of these drafts? The Osaka office is short-staffed and this is needed asap. As you know, the end-of-season rush is starting soon.” 

“Of course. Also, the other proofs are sent back to the authors for review.” you take the stack of papers from her. 

“Great. And you have the meeting with the Volleyball Association rep set right?” 

“Yep, meeting Kuroo today for lunch.” 

“Urgh, I’m so lucky to have you.” 

The deadline for the special issue is approaching fast. Not just that, but the other standard Literature department projects like novels, light novels, and nonfiction works are all lining up for publication before the end of the year. People are going to begin holiday shopping soon, so these new works and holiday prints need to happen quickly and be sent to the bookstores. The whole company is revving its engines. Is Bokuto really busy these days too? Back in high school, this would be close to exam season, so you would probably be helping him cram (while juggling your own work). Rather than just one dead week, the entirety of volleyball season is probably incredibly busy. Just months of back to back matches and touring around. 

As you sort and categorize the stack of papers, gauging what you are dealing with, one particular piece catches your eye.  _ How Does A Volleyball Fly _ ? You check the author, Samson Foster, and do a quick background check. 

“Woah,” you whisper to the screen. Foster is the current coach of the MSBY Black Jackals. But he also wrote this children’s story that’s currently sitting on your table.

**_How does a volleyball fly? Does it sprout wings like a bird? Or have rockets like a spaceship? Does the wind carry it far away? Maybe ride on waves of daydream?_ **

**_Some days it plops like a rock. Other days it floats away. Don’t be scared, the ball is your friend. Get to know your friend first. Greet it, don’t be shy, and shake hands._ **

You become so engrossed in this tale and begin to read it in more detail. Foster tells the story of a child learning to play volleyball and falling in love with seeing the ball soaring through the air. Volleyball is ultimately a game where as long as you keep the ball up after all. You know you have found  _ the _ story and bring the manuscript to Matsuda’s office to share. Enthusiasm and passion spilling from your lips. At the end of your proposal, this work gets slotted for high priority. Matsuda will handle the remaining business logistics to secure rights and complete negotiations. An illustrator will be contracted.  _ How Does a Volleyball Fly?  _ will debut as both a picture book independently and appear within the Sports Special Issue. And it’s just barely lunchtime with the ex-Nekoma captain. 

“Such pleasure seeing you again. Since that Sendai match, over a month now?” Kuroo extends his hands for a handshake. 

You firmly return the greeting, “likewise Kuroo, thank you for working with us on this project.” 

You are meeting with Kuroo from the Sports Promotion Division of the Japanese Volleyball Association. It only makes sense to include any relevant advertisements and sponsors from them in the issue as well. There will be a few pages of spreads for them to post brand information, sponsors, coupons, information on local volleyball clubs, and of the like. You two have just finished reviewing the proof samplings and now, towards the end of lunch, more small-talk start happening. 

“I don’t mean to offend, but you look quite different from last time,” Kuroo observes in between a few bites of food. “Much fresher and livelier. Seems like Bokuto-ism is the real deal.” 

“Pardon? Bokuto?” 

“Ah, I know more about you than you do about me. That’s for sure, math magician.” 

You blink. Kuroo delights at your confusion. 

“In our third year, we were at a training camp. Bokuto taught a chibi, now current teammate Hinata, how to do a feint. I believe he introduced it as something that ‘upsets the balance of stillness and motion’. Ring a bell, Bokuto’s tutor?” 

Now it does. That’s what you use to bait Bokuto into studying calculus. You smile. So he not only remembered, but it sounds like he used it to bait someone else. That Kuroo also remembers, must have meant it made an impression.

“You should talk to him sometimes,” Kuroos says, sipping his tea. “I feel like he gets lonely.” 

Bokuto? Lonely? “Even with his teammates? He tells me they are really close.” 

Kuroo shrugs. “Well, teammates in pro-leagues are also like coworkers right? How would you like hanging out with your coworkers 24/7, even if they are close friends?” 

Kuroo is making a valid point. It’s not like a high-school team where it’s still fundamentally interest-based. “I see what you mean. Bokuto is lucky to have a friend looking out for him like you then, Kuroo.” 

Kuroo laughs loudly, “He’s very lucky indeed. Ah, I’m just interested in seeing how far his luck runs.” 

“I’ll give you some advice.” He pauses for a bit and gives a devious grin. “You know in volleyball, if you’re too focused on the ball and trying to score, you forget your surroundings. You might want to pay attention to the people next to you.” 

You smile and shake your head at Kuroo’s riddles. “Kuroo, I know why even Akaashi calls you ‘Pain-in-the-ass Kuroo-san’. How do you sound like both an old geezer and the Cheshire Cat at the same time?”

“Literature student, right? And a math magician. Shouldn’t be hard for you. Don’t think too much.”

“Alright. Wonderful meeting you Kuroo. Thanks again.” 

“Likewise. Always a pleasure.” 

**_How does a volleyball fly?_ **

**_First observe, then learn, and finally execute._ **

It’s a Sunday morning in November and you’re strolling after a light jog. You remember how Bokuto would always drag you out for impromptu sprints and you kind of miss it. Recently, you’ve been going outdoors a lot more. Today, your walk brings you to Icho Namiki Avenue, the Gingko Avenue. The leaves of the trees lining this road have turned a beautiful golden yellow. The best time to visit here would be right now, during the heart of autumn. Many people are here admiring the trees with family and friends. You take a photo of the gold tunnel and send it over to Bokuto, “ _ How’s autumn in Osaka?”.  _

A moment later, your phone buzzes.  _ Bokuto Koutarou is requesting a video call _ . You smile and accept. And you are greeted with an unflattering, bottom-up view of Bokuto’s face, nostrils flaring right into the camera. You snicker at the sight.

“Hey.”

“Hey!” Bokuto greets enthusiastically into the phone and readjusts the camera. “I saw the ginkgo trees, the leaves are SOOO pretty! You doing well?” 

“Yea, they are! And yup, today is a good day.” You breathe out, excited to have some company during your walk. The leaves are truly beautiful golden. Looking at Bokuto’s face on the screen, you notice that his eyes are golden too. Slightly different shades, but also vibrant. 

This thought traps you for a moment, until your feet trip over an uneven part of the pavement and your phone drops. A somewhat awkward toss back into reality.

“AH! YOU OKAY?!” You hear Bokuto yelling at his mic. Some murmurs can also be heard, no doubt from people around him thinking the man is crazy. You pick your phone and dust the dirt off. Walking might be a hazard, you think as you find a bench to sit. “Sorry! Just dropped my phone!” 

Bokuto is taking a break today too, having just finished a run in Mino Park. A small respite, really, before the team will be traveling to Hiroshima for the next set of matches. Bokuto stretches his arm out so you can see more of the scenery behind him and rotates the phone slowly. Large swaths of maple trees.

“See this? The ones you see are golden, but the leaves here are a fiery red.” 

“They’re gorgeous! And it’s all in a forest too, I’m just seeing one street.” 

Bokuto brings the phone closer to his face. “Bet you haven’t been here before.” You shake your head and Bokuto’s face lights up a bit. “Let me tell you more! I learned so much today.” 

You see Bokuto hold a fried object to the camera. “What’s that?” You ask, watching Bokuto take a bite. 

“Maple leaf tempura. They only have it during autumn, red maple leaves dipped in batter.” Huh, that’s completely new. You have only ever heard of tempura with shrimp, crab, or other vegetables. But maple leaf? 

“Oh! And I also passed by Ryuanji Temple.” Bokuto continues on. 

“Wait, isn’t Ryoanji Temple in Kyoto?” You ask, confused. Your confusion grows even more when Bokuto starts laughing more, his eyes squeezed shut from amusement. 

“Hey hey hey! There’s stuff I know about that you don’t!” He says proudly.

“Of course there’s stuff I don’t know.” You press on impatiently. “Come on Bokuto, am I getting things mixed up?” 

Bokuto stops his laughter to explain. “You’re thinking about the one with the rock garden. I’ve been there too when I had a match in Kyoto. This is one within Mino Park. It was built by some guy who was training under the waterfall...I read about it earlier... but I forgot his name, sorry.” Bokuto might not remember the small details from those tourist info plaques, but from his descriptions, it’s clear that he’s been to many places already. Walked and traveled all over Japan while chasing his volleyball. 

“You haven’t seen the Mino Fall!” Bokuto exclaims suddenly.

You are about to answer “nope”, but the screen with Bokuto’s face suddenly starts to shake. 

“Wait a minute! Let me go show you! I’ll run there right away. You really have to see it in real life. It’s so much better than photos.” 

You’re baffled at Bokuto’s impromptu sprint towards the waterfall. All you can see are blurry views from the camera shake, the sounds of his footsteps, and the occasional, “Sorry! Excuse me! Coming through!”. You don’t notice a smile making its way on your face. 

“Slow down Bokuto, be careful.” You chide, thinking of how you tripped earlier.

“Don’t worry, we’re here.” He switches his camera view and raises his arm up. “There’s a lot of people now. When I got here this morning, it was just me, and another grandpa. Do you see it? Isn’t it pretty? Look at the trees here too!” 

Bokuto pans the phone around and through your small phone screen and low resolution, you catch glimpses. The large stream of water falling gracefully, merging into the pond below. Red maple trees flanking the centerpiece on both sides. You hear the sound of rushing water and the chatter of people also enjoying the view.

“Do you see it? Isn’t it great in real life?” Bokuto asks gleefully. 

“Yes it is Bokuto” You smile, humoring him.

A kid pulls on Bokuto’s jacket. “Hey mister, you’re still showing a moving photo basically. And the screen quality sucks, so your friend is probably better off looking at a photo.” 

Little smartypants. Little, salty, smartypants. You hear the mother swatting the child’s jacket, “that’s rude. Apologize to this older brother.” 

“Ah that’s fine.” Bokuto scratches the back of his head. “Kid’s probably right. You’re still just seeing bad quality footage.” 

“It’s okay Bokuto!” You quickly respond. “I can hear the sounds of the waterfall and you’re here too, so it feels very real!” 

“Really?” Bokuto’s smile beams again. You nod. “If you ever come to Osaka, I’ll show you this place in person for reals.”

**_How does a volleyball fly?_ **

**_Steadily, Quickly, Surely_ **

“Okay!”

It doesn’t take long for another month to pass by, and it’s already the depths of December. The special issue is finally released, complete with all the components planned. Udai’s chapter. Athlete interviews, Bokuto’s included.  _ How Does a Volleyball Fly?  _ The contents from the Volleyball Association. And many more other pieces of hard work from the whole team. Despite this year being an especially busy time of year, everything is going according to plan. And you cannot wait to welcome the new year.

A co-worker knocks on your desk, “hey y/n, Assistant Director asked me to call you to her office.” 

“Thank you, I’ll be there right away.” You finish saving your current work, grab a notepad and pen, then head off. You knock on Matsuda’s door briefly and wait for her to call you in. 

“Come in, and sit,” she says while continuing typing on her computer. “I don’t have much time, so I’ll get straight to the point.”

Matsuda finishes the task at hand and turns over to you. “As you know the Osaka office is short-staffed. Two of the editors are taking their maternity leaves, and it’s unknown when or if they’ll actually return to position. I’m considering transferring you there to fill in, permanently.” 

“I thought you said you saw me as a threat and that you keep your enemies close.” 

“My, my. Ever the petty one, can’t believe you would still remember that. I did say that, but I’m not so mean as to keep a good opportunity from a mentee.” 

You look up at her. 

“I’m proud of your work, y/n. You should be too. Your change and impact are not unnoticed by the crowd here. I think you’ll flourish in the Osaka office as well. Of course, they’ll give you a hefty boost to your salary too. Thoughts?”

“I…” You are stunned by this news, and rake your brain for a careful answer. “Thank you for this consideration...I-” 

She stops you from talking. “It’s not an easy decision I know, uprooting right when you finally made progress here. And it isn’t always about the money. Your salary is going up even if you stay anyways. I’ll give you a week, but I’ll need an answer soon.”

**_How does a volleyball fly?_ **

**_With bravery, practice, and faith._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> •Oh wow, will Reader take this opportunity or pass on it? Hm….  
> •Just as it’s a beautiful autumn for Reader and Bokuto, at the time of posting, it’s the start of autumn for us too. Are the trees in your area changing colors? Or perhaps in the other hemisphere, it’s approaching summer?  
> •[Icho Namiki ](https://www.japan.travel/en/spot/378/)means “a row of ginkgo trees”. It’s a famous street lined on both sides by ginkgo trees, so it’s super popular during autumn.  
> •[Mino Park](https://www.japan-guide.com/e/e4019.html) (also Minoo and Minoh) is the closest, natural forested park, to Osaka. Beautiful year long but especially for its fall foliage. Yes! There are street vendors selling “momiji tempura”, maple leaf tempura in autumn. The [wiki](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meiji_no_Mori_Min%C5%8D_Quasi-National_Park) is pretty bare though.  
> •Here’s some info on the [Mino Park Ryuanji Temple(瀧安寺) ](https://osaka-info.jp/en/page/ryuanji). It was pretty badly damaged in a typhoon Sept 2018 though, so technically Bokuto wouldn’t have been able to see much. And the one Reader is thinking about in Kyoto, [Ryoanji (龍安寺)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ry%C5%8Dan-ji) is very famous and is a UNESCO site.


	11. We're Watching, Ace!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s almost the end of the year. You have a reunion with the 2013 Fukurodani team to watch Bokuto’s match. Feelings are stirred and emotions are high. Everyone has special news to share.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a feel-good "intermission/bridge" chapter before we're getting into the second arc! (Though Akaashi will be out of picture for a little bit, he's not gone. I know, wish he can be part of Reader's carry-on too)

It’s right past the middle of December. Temperatures are dropping rapidly as the days remaining in the year start to count-down. Following Yukie’s suggestion, most of the 2013 Fukurodani team, with the addition of you, decide on today for a long-overdue reunion. It’s an optimal get-together for the “Tokyo kids” (Onaga is in Saitama) because today is the match between EJP Raijin and MSBY Black Jackals. Washio Tatsuki, is yet another Fukurodani Boys Volleyball success story and currently a middle blocker for the EJP Raijin. It isn’t every day that you not only get to see old classmates but also cheer for opposing teams together. Either way, it’s a win-win for the night. And that’s not all the good news either.

“Cheers to Akaashi’s first promotion!!!” The Fukurodani team cheers and clinks glasses. 

Since the quiet execution of Fujimoto’s position, the shounen manga department has undergone some structural changes. A couple of hardworking assistant editors like Akaashi, have been promoted associates and well experienced, established senior editors are re-recognized. It’s like what Matsuda promised you. The winds have changed. 

“Long overdue, but finally here. Congrats Akaashi, again.” You toast. 

“Thanks, everyone!” Akaashi beams brightly. Akaashi rarely smiles like that, but if not now then when? He has every right to be proud of himself. 

“I have good news too!” Kaori suddenly declares standing up. “Today, my former patient called me! Told me his blood tests came back all normal again, the fourth time in the row!” 

“Cheers!” Everyone clinks glasses again. 

“Are we just going around in circles? I want to share too.” Komi raises his glass. “I received a callback last week and guess what, yours truly will have a role in an upcoming TV drama. You all better stream the episodes! Won’t only be Bokuto, Washio or Kaori’s face on TV in the future!” 

“Heyyy,” Kaori slurs out. “What’s wrong with my face! I’m a prominent sports promoter okay. I PROMOTE SPORTS!” 

Yukie pulls Kaori up. “Girl, you’re a total lightweight. I told you to not stop munching on finger food. Listen to the nutritionist, will ya.” 

Konoha hits the table a few times to get everyone’s attention. “It’s starting, it’s starting!” Everyone fixes their attention to the TV screens currently broadcasting the match. With a teammate in both teams, every single point is cheered for. The temperature outside the bar may be frigid, but inside everyone’s spirits are lifted and warmed with close company and booze. 

You all watch Washio block Bokuto’s smashes and then see Bokuto’s kills outmaneuver Washio’s defense. A stunning show. Akaashi also points out to you that the Raijin’s libero is the cousin of the Black Jackals #15, Sakusa. And that the other middle blocker, Suna, used to be on the same team as Black Jackals setter #13, Miya Atsumu. No doubt, tonight’s a celebratory evening for all of those athletes’ teammates as well. But Fukurodani only has eyes for their own two players. 

Glasses get emptied and refilled. Plates of food get cleared and new platters served. The house nutritionist is probably the one getting the most out of hand now. Too excited about the game to consider the speed and amount she’s scarfing down. The match is currently at a time out after the 3rd set. If the Black Jackals take the next set, they’ll win the match. 

“Ah, that last set was so close. Can’t believe the deuce went all the way to the 30s. That’s just crazy.” Komi comments. 

“I’m sure seeing each other is firing them up immensely.” Akaashi agrees, emptying his glass, again. Who knew that Akaashi would become much more talkative with the influence of some alcohol. The whole team makes a mental note for future meetups. 

Your confidence is also bolstered by the alcohol. You raise your glass. “I have something to say!” 

Komi claps his hands and hoots, “YEAAAH!” 

“These past months, I’ve been coming out of some personal obstacles. I reached out and you all welcomed me back with open arms. Even though I’m not even on the team, you all treated me so kindly. THANKS ALL OF YOU!” You raise your glass again.

“We always thought you were part of a team.” Konoha retorts. “A part of the Bokuto emergency kit, hahaha.” 

Some people laugh in agreement. “Let her finish.” Akaashi says, returning the spotlight back to you.

You nod thanks. “I want to be able to spend more time with everyone, support each other during good times and tough times...be the ‘Tokyo kids’. But last week, I was offered a permanent transfer to the Osaka branch. This morning, I officially agreed….I’ll be moving to Osaka! But...let’s stay in touch!!” 

\---------------

You knock on Matsuda’s office, a stack of papers are held tightly in your hands. You push the door open upon hearing “come in”. Like usual, Matsuda is still typing away at her work.

“You never liked me beating around the bush,” you begin. Odd for an opening, so Matsuda actually stops her work and turns to you immediately. “But I guess I still like to flourish things a bit. I think many people go through entire careers without a mentor and end up okay. But I’m lucky to be given an opportunity to learn from you and grow. Three months ago, you did not give up on me. I truly learned so much working with you and hope I was able to meet your expectations. I still want to challenge myself and hope to do the same in Osaka.” 

You bow deeply to her, hoping your sincerity is carried through. When you look up, Matsuda still has that signature witty smirk on her face, but you know her eyes are glazing over. 

“You already know I hate flourishments. No consideration for my eyeliner at all, do you?” She jokes, taking the papers from your hands. “Have a seat. Let’s go over the terms. You’ll do great there.” 

Matsuda walks you through some more information about the Osaka office and the teams there. The office culture in Osaka is a tad bit laxer than Tokyo, which is something you are looking forward to. 

“Do you know anyone in Osaka?” Matsuda asks. “I hope you are not uprooting yourself completely, but that’s alright too. I know it’s popular among young people.” 

You smile slightly, “I have a good friend there.” 

“Good. Make more friends. Find love or something. Be..whatever you young people should be like.”

“I’ll call you too, Matsuda.” 

“I’d like that.”

\--------

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol stirring your emotions, or if it’s just the overwhelming nostalgia that’s in the bar. Yukie starts bawling. 

“OMG! I’m so happy for you, but I’ll miss you so much! What about barbecue nights? But oh my gosh congratulations!” 

Akaashi is stunned. “Osaka? When?” 

“I’ll be moving next year after the holidays.” 

Komi takes a fork and clangs his glass. “This is happy news, good news! Cheers! And we send one more Fukurodani alum over to Osaka!!” 

Konoha points out, “Komi is right. Bokuto is in Osaka too!” 

A drunk Kaori points to the screen. “Bokuto, you dumb owl. Betcha can’t hear us. Y/n is going to Osaka!”

Sarukui, arguably the soberest person in the room, congratulates you too. “Happy for you. Just a tip as a civil servant, better get all the paperwork and stuff organized asap, the bureaucratic processes are a pain to deal with.” 

“Thanks, Sarukui, I’ll keep that in mind.” you smile, clinking his glass. 

As the timeout comes to a close, you all focus attention back on the game. The cameraman gives Bokuto a close-up and Bokuto takes good advantage of this moment. 

“Hey hey hey!! Are you all watching?!” 

Everyone raises their glasses, “we’re watching, ACE!”


	12. Goodbye and Hello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is wrapping up at the end of the year. Old things need goodbye, new beginnings need hello. And somewhere at the intersection of the nostalgic neighborhood, there's Bokuto sitting on a swing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was going to update tomorrow, but guess this is a "Halloween special" then?

The year is wrapping up and half of the team are already on vacation. You are ready to head home and spend the crossing into the new year with your parents. Once the holidays are over, it will be time to move. You are finishing the last bits of work here and there for your last day. Farewells and gift exchanges with coworkers are all complete. Lease papers are signed, utility company, ward office all taken care of... Folded cardboard boxes waiting to be packed line the walls of your apartment. You are grabbing the last lunch with Akaashi. He isn’t going home this year, having already made plans with some university friends to go travel. Since you’ll be leaving soon in the new year, this is probably the last time hanging out for a while. 

“How long has it been? Two years?” He asks, stirring his coffee. 

“Something like that. Hey, I’m still in the same company, just a different location...and not _that_ far away either.” 

“True.” Akaashi smiles into his cup. You notice Akaashi’s gaze getting lost and prompt him. 

“Thinking about something?” 

Akaashi blinks and smiles again. “Just remembering how I saw Bokuto off to Osaka. And now I’m going to see you off to Osaka too.” 

You laugh thinking about Bokuto going to Osaka for the first time, “I bet he didn’t want to take transportation alone.” 

“Oh for sure.”Akaashi nods in agreement and thinks to himself, “though that’s not what I’m referring to.”

\---

“It’s 2 hours to Osaka right?” Akaashi asks. 

“More like 2 and a half, but yea.” Bokuto double checks his ticket and bags. He holds his phone up to Akaashi. “NOT forgetting my phone!” 

“Need me to drop you off?” Akaashi asks, pouring a cup of morning coffee. “You used to complain to me about taking transportation alone.” 

Bokuto pouts, “AKAASHI, that’s before. I’m perfectly independent now.” 

“You sure you don’t want to say goodbye to y/n before leaving?” 

Akaashi glances up at his friend, Bokuto’s expression is relaxed. “Nah, she’s probably really tired, let her sleep. Besides it’s not like I’m going anywhere far.” 

Akaashi senses that Bokuto has more to say, and only grunts to acknowledge that he agrees with Bokuto--let y/n sleep. Surely enough, Bokuto continues.

“I don’t know how companies work, or how much y/n has changed over the years. But, y/n is just the kind of person, whenever you’re seeing her work so hard, you just want to see her succeed and happy you know? Be a good friend to her, yea?” 

Akaashi pauses in the middle of his sip. Did he hear wrong? Why is this statement so familiar? 

After Bokuto leaves, Akaashi decides to clean his apartment like he normally would over the weekend. He notices two small gaps on his bookshelf. From _No Longer Human,_ which he lent, gave, Bokuto. And the primer you wrote, gave to Akaashi, and is now probably with its rightful owner. Akaashi smiles with realization. So _that’s_ why Bokuto’s statement sounded so familiar. 

_“ **Whenever you stand next to him, you just want to see him succeed. I hope you will be able to help support him during those times when he’s kind of out of it.”** _

\---

Akaashi focuses his attention on the present again. “Did you get all your stuff organized? Sarukui sent you a few resources right?” 

You nod and take a bite out of your sandwich. “Yea, I found a moving company already. I’m set with my new place in Osaka, but there are still some other logistics I need to figure out.” 

“Bokuto said he’s going home this year right? So maybe you can ask him.” 

“He did say that, but I don’t know what his schedule is though. It’s quite erratic.”

“That’s true too. If you see him, tell him I said hi.” 

“Will do.”

“And tell him I’m a good friend. To both of you.” 

You laugh, “will do Akaashi. How can we possibly forget about the friendship you bestow upon us.” 

The old neighborhood is exactly as you remember. The suburban maze of residential zones is closely packed together, with local businesses and family shops here and there. Every now and then you see high-school students in recognizable grey uniforms walking around with friends--probably excited to finish exams. It’s to your parents’ delight to have you back for the holidays, finally. Your father is finishing up the rest of the end-of-year house cleaning. And your mother is busy with holiday greetings over the phone with extended family and friends. You get sent on an errand with a shopping list. The days are significantly shorter now and the sky is dark long before dinner time. At the local grocery store and specialty shops, some of the older aunties and uncles still recognize you. You greet them, wish them good health, and go along your way. They’ve gotten older, the storefronts have also aged. You stop by the local convenience store. The same one you and Bokuto go to often after he finishes practice and you finish your club or council duties. Convenience stores are convenient because they are everywhere you need them to be and also where you least expect them. 

Is Bokuto back for the holidays? During your last call, he said he hasn’t decided on the date yet and you’ve been too busy thinking about moving to worry either. Like the many other photos the two of you have sent back and forth, you take a picture of the snacks aisle in the convenience store and send it to Bokuto. 

“ _I think you still owe me chips.”_

You browse the shelves some more and feel your phone vibrate in your coat pocket. You smile, it’s probably Bokuto. He always returns your messages quickly, granted he’s not in the middle of a match. And yes, it’s him this time too. He sent a photo. 

Is that? You recognize the vending machine. That one with the ice creams, where you stayed with Bokuto after nationals. You dial his number, waiting for the signal to connect. Bokuto picks up.

“Did you recognize that vending machine? I figured you would.”

“Of course I do.”

“You got some time? I’m at the park. Pretty close to where you’re at. Remember how to get there?” 

“I’ll be right there.” 

“Cool, see ya soon.” You pick out two drinks and head out towards the park. 

As you get closer to the park, you feel a wet spot on your nose. You stick a hand out. It’s starting to snow. Just barely. When you get to the park, you see Bokuto sitting on one of the swings, hand also sticking out looking at the falling flakes. If it weren’t for his large stature, someone might mistake him for a lost boy, just in his own world. 

“Bokuto!” You call out. He looks up. 

“Hey! Got you an ice cream. I think this makes us even now, right?” He hands you a chocolate ice cream.

“I don’t know Bokuto, I think the accounting books are pretty messed up now.” You joke, handing him a drink return. You take a seat on the adjacent swing, setting your grocery bag down. 

“Did your mom send you on errands?” Bokuto gestures to the bags with his chin. “My mom sent me out too.” He waves a scrap of paper. 

You chuckle. “Let me guess, they’re cleaning the house too?” 

Bokuto laughs and nods. He lightly swings back and forth, and the hinge on the top creaks loudly. “Do you think I’ll break it?” 

You laugh, “I don’t think so. This one squeaks too.” You swing a bit in demonstration. The hinges also screech in agreement. 

“Saw your game the other day. It was great.” You compliment, changing the subject. 

“Oh yea, with Washio right? I knew you were all going to watch, did you see me say hi to all of you?” 

You nod eagerly. “We sure did, ace!” 

Bokuto laughs a little and hides his face deeper into the collar of his parka. You bring up your next topic slowly.“About your matches next month…I’m probably able to go to some of them.”

Bokuto’s head snaps up, “the home games in Osaka? Are you having a business trip?” 

You shake your head slightly. “Not quite. I’m getting transferred there.” 

Bokuto looks confused. You try again and nod with each syllable. “Permanently. Move. To Osaka.” 

Bokuto’s eyes start to grow in realization. “AHH!” His ice cream almost drops as he jumps up from the swing. The empty swing swings back and forth, the squeaking hinges echo his questions. “What, that. That’s crazy! Wait. Why? When? Where? Osaka? H-how? Why are you only telling me this now?!” 

“It’s still pretty recent news, I just-” You explain. Bokuto’s phone rings and he panics between deciding if he should listen to you or pick up. You nod towards the phone. “Go ahead.” 

It’s Bokuto’s mother. You recognize the loud, enthusiastic voice even without the phone on speaker mode.

“Koutarou!!! Where are the groceries!!! What are you doing? Are you lost?” 

“Ah”, he glances at you. “I met y/n, we’re just chatting for a bit.” 

“Ohhhh! Y/n? Is she still there? HELLO! Haven’t heard about you in a while!” 

Bokuto turns speaker mode on. “My mom says hi.” 

You smile. “Hi auntie!” 

“Koutarou, invite her over for dinner! Come over! We’re having grilled meat! Koutarou’s favorite.” 

Bokuto’s mother is a very generous and lively woman. Bokuto probably got that aspect from her. “Thanks auntie, but I have to go home. My parents are expecting groceries.”

“Alright then, maybe next time. Tell your mom I said ‘hi’!” 

“Will do, thanks again auntie. Happy holidays.” 

“So polite as always.” She compliments gently and then switches tone. “Haul your ass back home Koutarou, or none of us will have dinner!” 

“Yes ma.” Bokuto says, ending the phone call. 

Bokuto looks at the bag of groceries you already got and looks indecisive about what to do next. You’re pretty much done with your errands, but Bokuto still has quite a few things to buy. But the conversation isn’t over yet.

“I’ll walk with you for groceries.” You offer. “It’s cold, so nothing’s going to go bad.”

“Okay!” Bokuto jumps up and grabs the grocery bag next to your foot. “Let’s go, I still have a lot more questions!” 

While Bokuto carries your grocery bag, the two of you make your way back to the street with the food stalls and vendors. Some that recognize you from your patronage earlier greet you again, “Hey! Back so soon, did you forget to get something? And, Koutarou! You’re back too! Saw your game, you make us all proud!” 

Bokuto cheerfully greets them all. He has a way with the old aunties and uncles working here. And they all love him back like their own son or grandchild. In between picking out groceries, chatting with the shop owners, the occasional photo and autograph sessions, Bokuto asks you a ton of questions about moving to Osaka. If you are transferring on your own will...if you have all the paperwork done, moving boxes, tickets, a new apartment, the lease agreements. Really, he’s even more meticulous about his than Sarukui or your own parents. Soon, the two of you are at the fork where you’ll part ways.

“Keep in contact about all that stuff! I’ll help wherever I can!” Bokuto says, handing your groceries back to you. His finger grazes yours. “Woah, your hands are cold.”

His fingers are extremely warm, almost hot. The extreme difference in temperature sends a light jolt through your nerves. 

“Here,” Bokuto says, taking a grey heat pack from his parka jacket.“I always carry some because we need to keep our hands warmed up before matches. It’s a little colder in Osaka than Tokyo, you know. Not by much, but if you’re sensitive you can definitely tell.” 

He hands the heat pack over to you and you accept it slowly. The chemical warmth radiating from it immediately warms your body. You look up from the heat pack back at Bokuto. His breath is forming small clouds in the cold. Cheeks rosy from the wind. 

“Thank you Bokuto. For believing in me.” You beam at him. “Again and again.” 

“Nah, I knew you’d be okay.” Bokuto grins in return. “I told you right? From one ace to another.” 

“That’s right.”You laugh a little. “Happy holidays, Bokuto.” 

“Happy holidays.”

When you finally get back home, you are greeted with a barrage of questions from your impatient mother. “What took you so long? We’re starving. Haven’t been home in ages, you’re getting lost now hm?” 

You shake your head at her questions, bringing the grocery bags into the kitchen. “No, I met Bokuto, we just chatted for a bit.” 

Your dad looks up from his phone in the living room. “Oh, that volleyball boy you used to tutor? He’s playing in the pro league now right?” 

“Yup, that’s him.” 

Your mom comes up beside you. “Of course I know Bokuto. Why didn’t you invite him over for a meal? Where are your manners?” 

You snort. Bokuto’s mom said basically the exact same thing. “He’s getting groceries too, he has to go home.” 

While the family is setting the table for dinner, you notice the snow outside falling harder and harder. It’s unusual for there to be so much snow around Tokyo, but maybe this year is different. 

Your phone buzzes and you look to see a photo from Bokuto. Of grilled meat. 

_“Missing out!”_

You reply with a photo of your own family’s dinner. _“Not missing much lol.”_

“Stop grinning like an idiot. Dinner.” Your mom calls, finishing the table set up. 

The new year will definitely be different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • Moving in Japan is a total pain! This is a [ super-simplified article ](https://gogonihon.com/en/blog/moving-and-relocating-in-japan/) talking about all stuff to worry about. Sarukui was definitely giving sound advice to Reader.  
> • “Auntie” is used not in literal aunt, but basically used to greet an older woman that’s a ‘generation’ older.


	13. We Meet Again Pt I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Day 1 in Osaka.

Today is the day you get on the train that will carry you from Tokyo to Osaka. It’s a frigid winter morning, with the air crisp and the sky clear. It’s a workday, so no one is able to see you off, and that’s okay--all the farewells and goodbyes have been said already. Taking the shinkansen is nothing new to you, but you’re getting nervous anyways. Is this a rash decision? What will await you in this new place? From your window seat, you watch the station fall further and further behind. The Tokyo cityscape becomes a blur as the train takes you away in a flurry. Is this what Bokuto felt like when he moved away from Tokyo? A battle of anxiety and excitement broils within you. The views outside shift from suburban towns, to rural rice paddies and a large expanse of endless grass fields. A frost-tipped mountain peak flies into view. Mt. Fuji. Most of the passengers are all looking out the window, admiring Fuji-san. Some children tug on their parent’s clothes to point it out. Passing by the peak means leaving the final gatekeeper of the Tokyo area. You give a final glance again before the train leaves it behind. Something about the landmark reminds you about Bokuto’s eccentric, frost-tipped, gelled up locks though. The thought curves up the corners of your lips.

Once you mentally settle down, you begin to write some thoughts down in your journal and also contact the moving services to confirm the status of all your belongings. It’s estimated to still take a day or two depending on weather and traffic conditions. By car, the drive to Osaka would take at the very least six hours. But by the bullet train, you’ll be there in two and a half. Technology. And the time certainly goes by very quickly. Bokuto is especially kind to offer you to stay at his place while figuring out the initial moving-in process. For the next two days, once all the furniture and boxes arrive, it will just be a lot of muscle work and nonstop tidying up your new apartment. Work will start almost immediately, so the whole settling down will probably take you a while. But you’ll chip away at cleaning up a bit every day.

“Dear passengers, we are approaching the Shin-Osaka Station. Please make sure you have your belongings with you. Thank you for taking the Tokaido Shinkansen line. We hope you have an enjoyable trip and hope to see you soon.” 

You pack your bags and take down your luggage from the overhead compartment. You follow the rest of the passengers out. Once you step off the train, you immediately notice that Osaka is definitely a bit colder than Tokyo. Not by much, but colder nonetheless. You pull your scarf up to cover your face and ears.

As you exit the terminal, you sense the people around you walking faster. Some rush up to family or friends. A few couples hug and kiss. Others are running to catch a cab or make it to the subway. Everyone else has a purpose to go to. Where do you go? That’s right it’s just you now in this new city.

“Hey, hey, hey!!!! Turn around!” 

You turn and see Bokuto standing not far from you, waving his arms. His hair is tucked under a beanie, and he is wearing a scarf and a long parka.You don’t move from your spot and watch Bokuto run towards you, still in the midst of excited laughter and calling your name. Did people start walking slower? Somehow even the station got a bit quieter. 

“We meet again!” Bokuto stops his steps in front of you. Without his hair serving as a distraction, your eyes meet with his golden ones. The color is warm and calming, like the autumn ginkgo leaves you encountered a few months ago. Any nervousness you held since Tokyo washes away at the familiar sight. Here, in this new place, is someone you know and trust. You aren’t stepping foot in Osaka all alone. 

“I’m here!” You greet back in equal enthusiasm, a bright smile decorating your face. You feel your nose and cheeks growing warm in the winter chill. 

“Let’s get out of here. Are you hungry? Should we grab something to eat first? Or maybe drop your bags off first? We can call for delivery.” Bokuto reaches to take your luggage.

“Did you bring a heat-pack?” Bokuto asks, to which you shake your head. “Ah, here.” He takes out a heat-pack from a pocket in his parka, rips the packaging, shakes the heat-pack to activate it and hands it over to you. 

“Thank you, Bokuto,” you murmur, grasping the heat-pack. The contents grow warmer and hotter. Your whole body feels warm.

Shin-Osaka Station is just six minutes by subway from the central Osaka station. Bokuto orders two curry rice, perfectly timed for delivery. A few subway stops later and a short walk, you arrive at Bokuto’s apartment, tucked in a quiet neighborhood. This is already his second place since moving here after high school. From what Bokuto tells you on the subway, his first location was a more rundown apartment. But for a newly recruited trial member of the team at the time, it was all he needed and could afford. After building up some more savings and increased pay, he moved into this current place. 

You notice that the apartment is especially modest in size, comfortable for one, a tad small for two. Not the newest, but very clean. Extremely clean. Immaculate even. When you first step in, you notice slippers laid out at the genkan. The wooden floors are polished and shiny. Every surface of the house is absolutely spotless. One might have expected this from Akaashi’s place, but probably not from Bokuto. At least from your own past understanding of him. You would consider your own place as merely, “clean enough”, and in comparison to this, yours would be a dump.

“Your place is...really clean.” You say in awe while surveying the interior. “And...you have a home gym.”

“Right, right! It’s the best! I still mostly go to the training center though.” 

The only hint that this place is Bokuto’s is probably the collection of exercise equipment off in the corner of the living room. A workout bench, some dumbbells, resistance bands, foam rollers, a yoga mat, medicine ball...it’s all pretty complete. 

Bokuto sets your bags off the corner and a knock is already at the door. “Food’s here too!” 

Lunch goes by quickly. You share how you spent the last few weeks packing your whole life into suitcases and cardboard boxes. Bokuto tells you about the last group of matches the team had, one loss and two wins. For the most part, it’s still a strong season. The following weeks’ matches will be in Osaka, so luckily the team won’t need to be on the move. He also tells you about the grandma living next door to him who often comes to dote on him like her own. Sometimes, he goes over to have dinner with her.

“Can I take a look around?” 

“Go ahead! Just feel at home. Um, I need to call my team captain.” 

With Bokuto’s ok, you take a closer look at his place. The kitchen is well-stocked, sponges clean and dried, bowls and plates stacked neatly. A square dining table where you two ate lunch is pushed off to the wall, realistically seating three people in its current setup. The bed is made and there aren’t any visible creases either. The writing desk in the room looks barely touched even. Next to the laptop and headphone, there are a few books and papers off to the side. You take a peek,  _ No Longer Human.  _ Huh, has Bokuto been reading this book? Oh right. He did take your old paper from the boy from the convenience store that time. You smile internally at the memory and wonder if Bokuto actually sat down to read through all that academic jargon. The last item in his room is the closet, and also the only imperfection in the whole apartment. The doors don’t close evenly. Curiosity gets the better of you and you reach a hand out hoping to close the door shut. 

“Don’t touch the closet!” Bokuto yells from the living room. Too late. Your touch is the last straw. The closet door swings open and you are met with a waft of fabric softener. You’re too shocked by the sudden assault of a flurry of clothes, sports bags, and whatever else that is spilling out the closet onto you and the floor. Bokuto comes rushing into, apologizing profusely. 

“Oh my gosh! I’M SO SORRY! I’m not a slob, it’s all clean, I swear! I washed everything and wanted to clean before you came over, but I spent too much time scrubbing the counter and wiping the floor and making the bed creaseless and, and, and also I had practice too.”

It reminds you of your first meeting with Bokuto in high school. You can’t help but laugh wholeheartedly at Bokuto’s desperation to explain the situation to you. Too caught up with cleaning everything else, his laundry is left unfolded and unorganized. “It’s okay Bokuto! Haha, I was beginning to think the place is too eerily clean. Like a hotel. This is more human.” 

“Messy is human? No! I clean up after myself.” Bokuto tries to defend himself, wide eyes pleading, and mutters under his breath, “Sakusa and Manager Akiyama would kill me.”

You just laugh some more and sit down on the floor, pulling the clothes from the pile. “Here, I’ll help you fold them. Don’t worry, I’m not judging you at all.”

Bokuto looks a bit lost but ends up sitting down too, picking away at the pile. As you set one folded pair of shorts aside with your left, you reach out to grab something else from the pile with your right hand. Bokuto shoves a t-shirt into your hand instead. “Um, I can fold that,” he mumbles, taking the article of clothing you were about to reach instead--boxer briefs. You notice that Bokuto’s ears are starting to turn a little red and decide not to say anything more that will embarrass the poor man. 

“I saw a copy of  _ No Longer Human  _ on your desk,” you say slowly, while deliberately picking out anything non-underwear to fold instead. “Did you read it?” 

“YES, I did!” Bokuto answers quickly. “I finished the book and also your paper. I think it was really well written. I don’t know why your professor took points off!” 

“Did you like the book?” You ask eagerly.You’re surprised Bokuto actually spent the time reading everything, but also equally pleased to have another mutual topic to talk about. And also humored by the fact that maybe Bokuto didn’t find the grammar errors you made either. 

“Hm..I understand why it is a masterpiece, but I’m not sure I can like a book. I don’t like how Dazai wrote Ōba’s suffering,” Bokuto considers for a moment, before continuing. “I felt like Ōba was doomed from the start. And as the reader, you kind of want to help him, but can’t. But truthfully, he’s not someone you’d actually want to be friends with either.” 

Laundry has been folded for a while now. The sunlight shining onto the bedroom floor has shifted its angles many times too. You listen to Bokuto talk about his thoughts on the novel. Many readers find immense dislike for Ōba. His irresponsibility, cowardice, arrogance, and paranoia set him up as a very contradictory and un-likeable character. But when you consider that soon after the completion of this novel, Dazai took his own life, succeeding on his fifth attempt, everything changes. In the words of a troubled man, comes the story of a very desperate character, pathetic yet sympathetic, grieving in intense loneliness and despair. Unable to show his true self or find genuine connections in the cold reality. 

“Sometimes, it might just be easier to be seen as a fool.” Bokuto concludes solemnly. “I think I can understand that about him.”

You shift your eyes over to Bokuto, who is wearing a very different expression. His face is turned away from you, eyes disconnected and wistful. His brows are relaxed but also strained at the same time. This is not the Bokuto that you know. The one before you at this moment doesn’t look like a top ranked athlete. Not even the frame of his musculature seems strong enough to support the weight of longing in his eyes. He’s thinking of something. Far out of your comprehension or reach. And it unnerves you. 

Just as you prepare to reach a hand out to confirm if the unfamiliar man is who you know, the Bokuto you recognize comes back. “You know, depressing book aside, I’m happy I got to read your paper! It took me a while, but I think it’s excellent!” 

Bokuto gets up from the floor and stretches, cracking his back. “Wow, would you look at the time? It’s almost dinner already. You feeling hungry? I’m starving!” 

You don’t press. Everyone has their own secrets and personal feelings they’d rather not share. 

“Sure! I saw you have some stuff in the fridge, we could just make something simple too. What are you thinking of?” 

Even Bokuto.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> •Honestly, anyone up for a Japan trip? I’ll write up an itinerary for you lol.  
> •Have you rode on a train or bullet train before?  
> •The [Tokaido Shinkansen ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T%C5%8Dkaid%C5%8D_Shinkansen) first opened in the 60s. It’s the first high-speed rail connecting Tokyo/Yokohama, Nagoya, Osaka/Kyoto aka the three major metropolitan areas in Japan. It departs very, frequently.  
> •[Mt. Fuji ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Fuji), arguably the most famous natural landmark of Japan. It may be visible along this bullet train route, sometimes it hides, so perhaps Reader is just lucky.  
> •Osaka has two stations, [Osaka Station](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C5%8Csaka_Station) and [Shin-Osaka Station](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shin-%C5%8Csaka_Station). The latter was built for the bullet trains so they don’t need to deal with logistics of getting the trains further into the city’s Osaka Station. But the two are very close, 6 minutes by subway as mentioned.  
> •[Japanese curry ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_curry) is ridiculously good. And [CoCo Curry](https://www.ichibanya.co.jp/english/) is supreme, I rest my case.  
> •Dazai Osamu’s No Longer Human is brought up again. On second thought, I rectified the note in Ch 5, where it was first mentioned. It’s a very important work to me, but I don’t recommend it to everyone because it’s a very heavy and potentially triggering read.


	14. We Meet Again Pt II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's still Day 1 in Osaka and Bokuto can cook?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I found out that Furudate released new panel redraws and character info basically yesterday...and Bokuto has TWO older sisters, gah he's the baby of the family! Ahhhh my heart.  
> And Fukurodani is a school with a big and beautiful library. Ayeee, I can see Reader doing her studies there and dragging Bokuto as well, shushing him every other minute when he gets too loud.

Bokuto’s fridge is fairly well-stocked for an in-season athlete. Plenty of vegetables, protein options, fruits, desserts, drinks. But then again, considering how the next few matches are going to be in Osaka, it makes sense too. 

“What about grilled fish and rice?” You ask, seeing two salmon filets. “We can fix a side salad.” 

“Sounds good!” Bokuto finishes putting the folded laundry away and comes out of his bedroom. “I can make it, you can uh...go relax or something.” 

“You sure? I can help out.” You actually haven’t ever had Bokuto’s cooking before. And it’s not that you don’t trust him in the kitchen. Okay, maybe you’re concerned, just slightly. 

“Yea, I cook for myself all the time,” Bokuto says, putting an apron on. He proudly shows off his outfit. “Hey! You think I am going to burn down the kitchen don’t you?”

You chuckle and hold your hands up to surrender, “okay, maybe just a little concerned. If you say you have it all under control, then go ahead, chef.” 

“You can judge for yourself later,” Bokuto says smugly, expertly working through the kitchen. “Did you want to take a shower? I got new towels and a set of shower shoes in there, you can use them.” 

“Sure, thanks!” 

Now that Bokuto mentions it, you definitely feel a bit grimy after the whole trip. Not as bad as a long road trip or plane ride, but travel just makes you feel icky afterward. You go to unpack your luggage, take out a set of more comfortable loungewear, and head off to the bathroom. True to Bokuto’s words, there is a new set of towels folded on the rack, and shower shoes off to the corner. Yep, definitely hotel-like. Did Bokuto get these because you were coming? You can’t really fathom this extreme level of hospitality, but knowing the kind of woman Bokuto’s mother is, it’s not completely surprising either. Yet another “thank you” added to the list. As you shower, you are seriously in a pinch contemplating on the sheer amounts Bokuto has helped you over the past few months. Granted not all of them were direct, but even indirectly, he would be of great help as well. Like remembering his words of encouragement, or getting inspired by something else related to him. You never want to be indebted to anyone, much less close friends. Now that you’re in Osaka, there will be a lot more times where you might need Bokuto’s help. But hopefully, it’ll give you more chances to give back as well. These thoughts bother you until you finish your shower. You wrap yourself with the new towel and notice how plush and absorbent the material is. Maybe you should consider getting one after you unpack your stuff in the apartment too. Speaking of unpacking, which box is your towel located in? How long will it take until you actually find what you need? You did mark your boxes, right?

“Are you done? Dinner is ready!” Bokuto calls from the kitchen, breaking you out of your concerns. 

“A-almost!” You hurriedly throw on your comfortable loungewear before stepping out of the steaming bathroom. The smell of freshly cooked rice and grilled fish fills the small kitchen space. Bokuto is still busying himself at the counter, scooping rice into the bowls. His waistline only emphasized further by the apron tie. It’s the stark contrast of the athlete in the kitchen that somehow makes this picture so--adorable? 

“Smells good!” You come up next to him and rest your hand over his shoulder. “I’ll mix the salad and set the table.” 

“Oh HEY! You’re done! Um, utensils are in that drawer over there, bowls in the cupboard, salad in the fridge, the dressing should be somewhere on the door.” Bokuto turns to you and quickly turns back. You barely even catch his instructions. 

It takes you a few tries trying different drawers and cupboards before you find what you need. Just as you finish tossing the salad, Bokuto comes over with two trays of his creations. The two of you take a seat and dig in. Bokuto waits for you to start first and carefully watches you take a bite.

“Woah! You’re right, you CAN cook. This is really good!” You exclaim, taking a few more bites. “Wow. Didn’t expect this. Why would you ever want to go out anymore after this.” 

Bokuto’s pressed lips relax into a grin. “Hahaha! Told you so! I’m a really good cook! Tell me what you want next time, I’ll make it too!” 

“Alright! Next time, I’ll give you a challenge!” In your peripheral, your phone screen lights up. It’s the moving company asking to confirm the time the truck should arrive at your new apartment. 

“The truck should arrive tomorrow around 10 AM.” You tell Bokuto. “I probably need to get there around 9-ish to meet with the landlord and say hi to the neighbors. Thank god I already bought greeting gifts.” 

There’s so much to think about still, so many moving pieces that need to be done. You already had to deal with a lot in Tokyo before moving out. Sarukui really wasn’t kidding you about all the paperwork. Because everything happened so quickly, you were rushing between visits to the ward office, phoning the utility companies, contacting banks, and other institutions for address changes...

“I asked my teammates, a couple said they’re willing to help out tomorrow.” 

“Ehh? No! That’s alright, don’t go bothering them. You guys are still in-season. I’m in no hurry to have everything set up either.” 

“It’s not a problem,” Bokuto reassures. “There are still days before the match and we’re just doing minimal training.”

“But I’m not completely helpless either Bokuto, I’m sure I can do a lot of things on my own too.” You try again exasperated.

Bokuto laughs, “oh I know. How else did you manage to uproot yourself from Tokyo and move here with one month's notice?” 

You deadpan. “Are you being sarcastic Bokuto? I think Kuroo rubs off onto you more than you know.”

Bokuto laughs even harder. “No, I’m not! I think that’s really impressive! I barely managed to take the shinkansen alone when I first came to Osaka. I know you got it, but this will save you some time, right? Ah, yea you met that Rooster Haired Cat.” 

Your following attempts to have Bokuto call off his operation fails. In the end, under the excuse that “pretend it’s just a chance to get to know them” and “they really want to meet you too”, you finally agree. Now, you’re pacing internally wondering what you can buy for lunch or something to thank his teammates. First impressions are really, really important. You want to make a good one. Not just as an individual, but also as Bokuto’s friend. There’s also the neighbors. Moving-in might be loud. You wonder what they’ll be like. Maybe there’s a friendly grandma living next door to your apartment like there is next to Bokuto’s. Or maybe another young woman trying to make it out in the world? What if they don’t like you and file a complaint. There’ll be a lot of paperwork and trouble and...

“Hey, don’t worry so much!” Bokuto recognizes the faint frown lines appearing on your face. It happens whenever you’re deep in thought with concerns. “If it’s something I can help with, I’ll help ya!” 

You can’t help but return with a smile. Ah. There it is again, Bokuto’s ridiculously good nature and fervor. It’s not the first time you consider how easy it might be for someone to take advantage of his goodwill. But you’ll accept his generosity again, tallying up another gratitude to be repaid some other day. Right now, at the very least, you can help with clean-up duties. 

“I’ll take care of the dishes, Bokuto. Thanks for such a good dinner.” You rise up and begin to clear the table away. “Don’t even try playing host, it’s the least I can do.” 

Bokuto laughs, “okay then!” 

As you wash the dishes, Bokuto watches a match of their next opponents. You glance from the sink over his way and see that he has a notebook where he’s drawing diagrams, jotting notes. The video gets paused, rewound, and replayed again in slow-motion. You turn your attention back to the dishes. Bokuto in high-school would never be like that. Rather than watching these videos, he would opt to have a go directly on the court. Of course, that would be spike practice. No doubt that’s really important in its own right, even now. But here is the same person a couple of years later, having the patience and discipline to study a match academically with focus. That’s different. After you set the clean dishes on the drying rack, you grab your laptop, take a seat on the opposite end of the couch Bokuto’s on. The sounds of the volleyball match and scribble of pen on paper become white noise as you chip away at your work too. The clicking taps from your keyboard soon join in the chorus in the living room. 

Bokuto stands up and stretches after finishing his notes. His shoulder and back give a good crack. He goes over to his corner of workout equipment and picks out the foam roller. You’ve been done with your work for a while. Now, you’re just browsing random things off the internet, looking at home improvement blogs, checking out home decor, eyeing a vacuum cleaner. You know, the stuff that you do once you turn into an “adult”. Every now and then, you take a look at the athlete who’s doing “athlete stuff”. Starting from the calves, working up the hamstrings, glutes, IT bands, the other side on the quads.... But you know what, that reminds you, stretches would be really good for you right now too. Your own back is so tensed up from sitting in a chair all the time. You shut down your computer and also get up to stretch out your arms, and do a few twists. Immediately you feel relief. 

“Do you want to use the roller?” Bokuto asks, spraying and wiping the equipment with a towel. “Feel free, I’m going to wash-up.” 

“Yes please.” 

While Bokuto is off showering, you take your turn on the mat to stretch out the last bit of tension in your body. The relaxing wave of loosened muscles is absolutely divine. You should do this more often before bed, it’s probably going to significantly improve your sleep quality. While rolling out your IT bands, you take a look at the other exercise equipment. Assorted, but basic. Used, but taken care of. You continue to focus on your exercise and breathing patterns, pausing occasionally to scroll your phone or reply to a text. 

A while later, the bathroom door clicks open and you see Bokuto walking out with his wet hair down, a towel around his neck. It’s strange to see him with his hair down. It happens, and quite often actually, but still there is just something about it. Sort of like a fluffy bird drenched in the rain. He ruffles his hair with the towel and goes into his bedroom, coming out a moment later with a folded futon and lays it on the ground of the living room. The couch is extremely comfy, but wow, a whole futon set up? Luxe. You’re about to thank Bokuto, just as he stretches himself out on the mattress. 

“Uhh…” you accidentally let out. 

“You can take my bed. The sheets and covers are all new and washed. You don’t need to mind me, I can fall asleep anywhere.” 

“Oh. Um.” Your brain short wires for a moment, processing the real facts of sleeping arrangements. You watch Bokuto tuck himself in the blankets. “Will you be cold? Um. Maybe you should take the bed. Err.” 

“Hahaha!” Bokuto shakes his head laughing. “You’re the one with the freezing hands all the time! It’s all clean, don’t worry.” 

Arguing with Bokuto is a futile mission. And seeing the guy lying so comfortably on the futon decreases any further will of rejecting the host. It’s just past 10 PM, but sleep is closing in on its ambush over your mind too. Your relaxed muscles are too lazy to hold you upright anymore. But you still notice something about Bokuto that you really need to say. 

“Bokuto, uh, you should dry your hair before you sleep.” 

“Hmmmm, I’m too tired, my arm’s tired.” He muffles into his pillow. 

“You’re an athlete, what do you mean your arm’s tired?”

No response.

“You’ll get sick.” You try again.

“Mmmphrnn.” He mumbles back. You sigh and crouch down next to him.

“Would you let me dry your hair then?” 

Bokuto turns his face so you can see a sliver of his eyes and then buries his face into the pillow again. You take that as a yes and go over to the bathroom to get the hairdryer. After carefully testing out the heat, you begin combing through Bokuto’s damp hair, occasionally moving his head around to get all the hairs at the ends. He continues his self-induced “suffocation” into the pillow. You hope that during all the times before today, maybe Bokuto actually dries his hair. I mean why else is there a hairdryer right? Maybe he’s especially tired today, he does faintly smell of salonpas. The buzz of the hairdryer is like a trance pulling both of you into sleep. By the time Bokuto’s hair is dry, you realize he’s already completely knocked out. You smile at the sight of Bokuto completely, blissfully off in whatever dreamland he’s in now. Bokuto sleeps like a baby, deeply and soundly. You let out a yawn and go to get ready for bed. There’s still so much to do tomorrow. 

The pillow and blanket smell of the same fabric softener that greeted you when you accidentally set off the closet. Your hand traces small circles on the pillow, as the events of the day quickly run through your head. You’ll remember it all for your journal. You think back to Bokuto in high-school, some impressionable moments of him then. There’s the Bokuto you met a few months ago, and the one who would chat or call occasionally since then. And now the Bokuto is currently sleeping out on the floor outside this moment. Bokuto shouldn’t be hard to read. The guy always wore his heart on his sleeve...at least that’s how you remembered it back then. It occurs to you that Bokuto the volleyball player is who you’re most familiar with now. The confident and energetic player that people cheer for. But who is Bokuto Koutarou? You are left wondering as your mind drifts off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm blown away by some incredible comment conversations in the last chapter. Thank you all so much for the support so far for this story. We all have our own lives and hugely diverse backgrounds outside of AO3 and Haikyuu, but it makes me so happy that this is a space we're kinda just coming together to just chill, relax, and escape.  
> Enjoy!


	15. Move-In Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally move-in day to your new apartment and a few of the MSBY athletes are here to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comments have been waiting for this moment, haha, and I hope to deliver. Enjoy~

Your eyes flutter open and close again as you toss around to snuggle deeper into the blanket. It takes a moment for you to fully register your existence. Today’s move-in day. That’s right. What time is it? You’re not even sure if you’ve set an alarm. It’s currently 8:07, good. You have to get there at 9, and factoring transportation time, you’ll have…

“Shit,” you quickly stumble out of bed and rush to get ready.

“Morning! I was just about to call you!” Bokuto cheerfully greets you while setting the table. “Breakfast’s ready! It’s a BIG DAY!”

You wave and yawn as you scurry into the bathroom to wash-up. How is he THAT cheerful in the morning. Is he like solar-powered or something?

“When did you wake up?” You ask, taking a seat at the table and accepting a cup of coffee. “Thanks.” 

“Pretty late actually, around 6? Did my morning run and workout.” 

My god. Morning people. Bokuto and his crazy run sessions. The thought drains you already. How did you even keep up in high-school? He was probably fast-walking at most. Then the caffeine finally kicks in, waking you up.

“You said you need to be there at 9 right?” Bokuto asks, looking at the time. “You have...uh...7 more minutes before we need to head out.” 

You pick up speed to eat. Why does Bokuto sound like the responsible one now? Okay, okay 7 minutes, please that’s nothing. You normally run out the door in 7 minutes back in Tokyo. You two head out the door at the 11 minute mark. 4 minutes late. Finally on the subway, you release a breath. 

“How did you get to be such a punctual, morning person?” You’re really curious.

“I’m always a morning person! And Coach Foster really emphasized that when I first joined the team.” Bokuto replies thoughtfully, then lowers his tone to mimic his coach. “Everyone must be early to practice, coming on-time is ‘late’”.

You laugh at Bokuto’s theatrics. It doesn’t take long for the two of you to find direction to your new home. And it’s even better than you had imagined. The space is currently empty and natural light spills in beautifully. There’s still some time before the moving truck will arrive. You go around to the closest neighbors to introduce yourself and present a greeting gift, a “peace offering” in a way. Your sincerity is met with equal enthusiasm from the newlyweds living next door and the elder couple on the other side. Soon after, Bokuto’s teammates begin to arrive. The first being the recognizable tangerine-headed Hinata. You have heard endless stories about him from Bokuto, and also Akaashi.

“BOKUTO!” Hinata exclaims, rushing over with open arms. 

“HINATA!” Bokuto waves his arms around in return. The two kids, men, swing the other around in a circle. Why does it seem like they haven’t seen each other in years? Only one answer. Morning people.

“Hi Hinata, pleasure meeting you. Thanks for helping me out today,” You introduce yourself. 

“Ah!” Hinata grasps your handshake with both hands and bows quickly. “Any friend of Bokuto’s a friend of mine! He really helped me when I first joined the team. Um. I’m really happy to meet you too! Bokuto told me a lot about you and you seem really nice!” 

True to Bokuto’s words, Hinata is a ball of sunshine. It’s easy to see why he’s the “central baby brother” of the team; the one everyone picks on outright and also secretly dotes on.

“Oy, oy, oy! Hinata’s here already? He’s early for once, hahaha.” 

Bokuto and Hinata perk up. You turn around and see three people coming your way. You recognize them as Meian Shugo, Inunaki Shion, and Adriah Tomas. It’s not that you’re a sports fanatic, but watching so many of Bokuto’s matches and listening to him talk about his teammates more or less got you familiar with them.

“Captain!!” Hinata jumps up and down in excitement. “Everyone’s here! What about Barnes, Sakusa, and Atsumu?”

“Inu-san! Tomas!” Bokuto calls out. 

Meian waves back. “Barnes has to go to his son’s little tykes soccer match. Sakusa’s busy. And Atsumu said he might be late.” 

It occurs to you that you are now officially surrounded by the presence of some very well-conditioned and vertically-blessed athletes. And you’re unsure if you’re supposed to just be enjoying it, or succumb to very real intimidation by their stature. Meian introduces himself to you first. He exudes the aura of a steel pillar, very much fitting of a captain. His handshake is grounded and firm. Tomas’s height is the first most noticeable aspect of him, along with large, hooded eyes. His handshake is a short, tight squeeze. Inunaki is the shortest of the three. His light-colored hair looks very soft and gentle. His handshake matches that too. While you all engage in some introductory small talk, the moving truck pulls up just in time. 

A loading ramp is set up at the back. You go greet the drivers and sign-off on the papers, acknowledging the safe arrival of your belongings after counting off the boxes and items.

“Please, oh my gosh, be careful.” You watch with worry. The athletes stretch their backs and neck and simply go for it, working with the drivers to start hauling boxes after boxes out of the truck. 

“No worries!” Hinata responds cheerfully. “I’m pretty sure my biceps are insured.”

That definitely does not cease your worries.

“Hey!? Did the party start without me?” A voice calls out from around the corner. The Kansai dialect is very apparent in the speech pattern. It’s obviously the main setter, Miya Atsumu.

“Tsum-tsum!” Bokuto greets, trying to wave with an arm without dropping a box. Bokuto ends up swaying his head around instead. Like an owl.

“Shut up Bokkun, I’m not here for you.” Atsumu yells back. “I only came because someone said there would be a cute girl. Where’s she?” 

“Oh! There she is!” Hinata helpfully points you out for Atsumu. 

You give a small wave, “hi Miya.” 

Atsumu holds a bag labeled “Onigiri Miya” out to you. “So, you’re Bokuto’s lady friend eh? Just call my Atsumu. My brother’s Miya too. He’s sponsoring your move-in with lunch. Better give him your patronage in the future.” 

Tomas gives Atsumu’s head a chop and takes the bag, “Atsumu, that’s rude. Even Osamu has better manners and he’s not even here.” 

“Hey! I brought the food okay. I could’ve just eaten it all on the way here!” 

You blink at the scene in front of you. Well, that scraps the idea to treat everyone to lunch. You make a mental note to find some other way to thank them. Meian comes up beside you, “don’t mind them, let’s just get back to moving this stuff. Can you show us where you want to put things? I’ll make sure they’re not goofing around.” 

“Oh, um, of course,” you follow Meian and the two of you look at spots to put down the big furniture pieces. Sofa against the wall, bookshelves lining the other end, the table here, the television over there…

“Please be careful,” you caution again. Bokuto and Atsumu are in a competition to see who can move the most boxes the fastest. The last thing you want is pulled muscles, stubbed toes, or broken plates. 

Meian and Tomas are currently moving in the living room furniture and installing the large electronics. The others are in the kitchen. You take out a box-cutter and prepare to open the clothing boxes that are currently stacked in the bedroom. Then you hear Bokuto calling for you from the kitchen. There are too many things going on and people to track at the same time. You see Hinata coming in with the last box and gesture for him to come over. 

“Hey Hinata, can you help me open these boxes?” You ask and hand him the box-cutter. “I’m needed in the kitchen.” 

“Sure! Leave it to me!” 

You flash a grateful smile and go to where you’re being asked for. Bokuto, Inunaki, and Atsumu are currently stacking your kitchenware on the counter, alongside utensils, pots and pans, coffee maker, all of the other gizmos and gadgets. Atsumu is actually a kitchenware fanatic, and currently in love with your coffeemaker. It’s probably because his twin, Osamu, is also a foodie and the influence rubbed off on him as well. You’re currently deciding on which drawers the utensils should go in.

“AHH!” Hinata yells from the bedroom, capturing everyone’s attention. Everyone calls back asking what’s wrong. Oh no, did he get hurt? You knew asking the athletes to come help is a bad idea. Here it is, the new star of the team is hurt in your apartment. It’s a crime. You’ll get in trouble. Maybe sued. And then your time in Osaka will come to an end, so will your job, and perhaps your entire career. Then you’ll have to move back in with your parents, who will eventually kick you out because you have a record. Finally, you’ll end up lonely, cold, and miserable in the corner of the Earth wallowing in sadness. And it’s going to be because you were too lenient in allowing a group of athletes to help you with move-in. There it is. Except, Hinata comes bouncing out of the room happily and waving around a blue shirt. “Y/N! I have the same shirt as you! I saw Bokuto had one and got one myself at nationals. Man, this is so cool, we all match!” 

“That was mine, I gave it to her.” Bokuto corrects, recognizing his ‘Way of the Ace’ t-shirt. 

Inunaki smirks and slings an arm over Bokuto. Atsumu jumps up and closes in on Bokuto from the other side. 

“Gave it to her eh? Sounds like there’s a story.” Inunaki and Atsumu begin their interrogation one after another on the origins of Bokuto’s lucky t-shirt.

“That’s because we-”, Bokuto begins to explain. He’s quickly cut off.

“Think about it,  _ why  _ would your shirt be in her possession? And amongst  _ her _ clothes of ALL places? There’s something fishy about this, what do you think Inu-san?” 

“It’s just a good luck token when-”

“Hm, I don’t know Atsumu.” Inunaki quickly follows suggestively. “The real question is if there are other things too?” 

“I’m telling you! There’s nothing-”

“Oh my, that’s a very wise question.” 

Neither of them give Bokuto enough time to explain before the other one asks another question blowing the previous one out of proportions. Tomas jabs Meian under the ribs. Meian clears his throat and finally breaks up the scene. 

“Bokuto already said, it’s just a good luck token to a friend. Stop asking so many personal questions. Inunaki, Miya, get back to work.” 

“Oooh, ‘personal questions’.” Atsumu emphasizes. Inunaki howls in agreement. 

“Atsumu. You can do seal walks in front of the fans next time.” 

Atsumu pales and shuts up immediately, Inunaki snickers off to the side. 

“You can join him Inunaki.” Inunaki zips it. 

You watch as Meian’s influence as captain quickly dials the temperature of the room back to normal. Inunaki and Atsumu are back to work diligently unwrapping plates and mugs. Soon, the room temperature drops a bit rapidly. Bokuto is pouting off to the side, still upset over being teased. Then he complains he is too tired to put all the plates up on the shelves, completely unmotivated off in the corner. Inunaki and Atsumu are actually rolling their eyes behind Meian’s back, also lazing away. Hinata looks like a lost puppy off to the side for causing the scene.

“How about we all take a break?” You suggest. “Atsumu brought the onigiris, right? Meian, what do you think?”

You can tell that the other players will probably not listen to your suggestion without their captain’s approval. Getting Meian on your side is the first priority. And luckily he is quite easygoing. The rest of the team observes their captain from the corner of their eyes.

“That’s true too, let’s all have lunch then.” 

You all sit around the sofa and coffee table with an onigiri from Osamu’s shop. Hinata specifically lets you choose first and apologizes for making a scene earlier. The shirt is the first article in the box, so of course, Hinata would see it when he opened the box. You take no offense. Even if you did, the tangerine-head’s remorseful puppy expressions are enough to sway those thoughts away. 

Onigiri Miya has truly taken one simple dish and brought it to new dimensions. The rice and savory fillings immediately give the taste buds a wonderful exercise. Each bite is more refreshing and nurturing than the one before. Sure, there are countless fillings one could put in an onigiri, but the true magic is still the rice. It’s the foundation, body, and framework of a truly delectable experience. You ask Atsumu about the rice. Turns out, the rice is specially grown on the farm belonging to Osamu and Atsumu’s former team captain.

“What made you come all the way to Osaka?” Inunaki asks, unwrapping his onigiri. 

“The Osaka office is short-staffed, so they asked if I wanted to transfer.” You pause for a moment. Hinata purses his lips and nods as if in deep understanding. “In truth, I think I just wanted a challenge. I grew up in Tokyo, went to university in Tokyo, worked in Tokyo...maybe I just want a change of pace.” 

“Oh right! You went to the same high-school as Bokuto.” Tomas points out.

“YUP! And she tutored me too, that’s how I manage to pass classes and get to go to tournaments!” Bokuto adds on, chest slightly puffed out. You grin a little.

Hinata looks at you with bright and sparkling eyes. “You must be so smart to teach Bokuto! He taught me a lot about volleyball, so he’s kind of like my teacher. And if you taught Bokuto, you’re like my Grandmaster!” 

“Uh….I don’t think I had anything to do with volleyball, Hinata.” 

“Hinata is RIGHT!” Bokuto interjects. “When I taught Hinata how to do a feint, I learned it all from this math magician! First pupil, that’s your grandmaster.” 

You flush at that ridiculous title. Atsumu falls over laughing. Inunaki howls.

“HAHAHA, math magician? Grandmaster? Oh boy, this is just too funny. I can’t, I can’t, HA!” 

Can you possibly turn more red? Yes. You flush even harder. 

Tomas shoves the onigiri currently in Atsumu’s hands into the latter’s mouth, effectively cutting him off. Meian gives Inunaki a “look” and he also stops teasing. 

After lunch, everyone resumes work. Meian and Bokuto are putting books onto the shelves. Tomas is chaperoning Atsumu in the kitchen. Inunaki and Hinata are cleaning up the packaging materials. Meian deemed Atsumu and Inunaki as too much of a trouble-causing duo. Bokuto and Hinata fall into their little mind games far too easily. So, they were all split up. You finish up work in your room, pulling the fitted sheet over the mattress, making the bed, fluffing the pillows...adding the clothes into the closet....along with the occasional break scrolling your phone.

Meian comes knocking, “want to take a look at the outside? I think we’re done with most of everything.” 

The boys’ crew outside has really transformed this space of yours. Your books are lined up. The kitchen looks fully ready to use, except for the currently empty fridge. 

“We followed the order of books you had in the boxes.” Meian explains. “The other decors are in that box over there. I figured you might want to put them in yourself.” 

The sight of the whole room coming together touches you. You initially planned to take at least two weeks to fully settle in, but in just a manner of a few hours, the whole space already seems like ‘home’. 

“Wow,” you’re at a loss for words. “This is just incredible. Thank you all so much for helping me, I’m so thankful….” 

Hinata chirps, “you don’t have to thank us! But if you really want to, please come to our game in a few days!” 

Bokuto and Atsumu agree fervently, “YES! Please come!” 

Meian nods as well, “I can talk to Manager Akiyama and get a special pass ticket. Feel free to come early to watch practice too.”

Your eyes light up at Meian’s suggestion. “Only if it isn’t a bother. I’m going to buy a ticket either way.” 

“Don’t worry about it! Atsumu always gets free tickets for Osamu,” Inunaki chimes in. “We do too, for close friends or family coming.”

“Then I’d be honored to be a special guest next week.” You reply, excited already. 

Meian brings his phone out, “can I get your phone number?” 

“Of course,” you receive his phone and begin to enter your contact information.

Bokuto frowns, “Captain, why do you need her number?” 

Meian side-eyes Bokuto. “For the tickets and also as an emergency contact if you go missing.” 

The other teammates chuckle sporadically. You say goodbye to all of them taking their leave. Hinata and Atsumu want to stay, but Tomas insists that you get some more time today before the evening to have the space to yourself. 

“Bokuto, wait.” you tug on his sleeve to stop him and quickly rush to your room. 

“We’ll be waiting outside,” Meian tells Bokuto, and ushers everyone else through the front door. 

You come back with the blue shirt that caused a little scene earlier this afternoon. 

“I think I should give this back to you now.” You say, presenting the article to him. 

Bokuto looks at the shirt in your extended hand and pushes it back to you.

“Nah, I gave it to you already so you keep it. I don’t need a good luck token anymore!” Bokuto expresses. “If it helps, just keep it safe for when I do need it!” 

Like each time before, Bokuto’s insistence is very persuasive. You hold onto the shirt.

“So, officially in Osaka now.” He says, taking another survey of the room. 

You chuckle slightly, “yea, unreal right? And I’m going to work Monday. I’m basically like a transfer student.” 

“HURRY UP BOKKUN! If ya want to talk, find some other time. We’re all still outside!” Atsumu yells from the outside. 

“I’ll leave you to finish decorating then! Enjoy your new home.” Bokuto says, exiting the front door. You see him out and wave the whole team goodbye.

“See you later, Bokuto.” 

He continues to wave at you while stepping away backward. You see Inunaki and Atsumu zoning in on him again. You can’t hear what they are gibbering about, but they’ll all be fine because Meian is there too. Except you think Meian is just chuckling off to the side now as well. He catches you looking at their retreat and waves his arm to you. You give a wave in return and finally close the door. Now, you have the whole place to yourself. Decoration is a constant process that becomes a lifestyle. For now, it’s perfect. There’s a lot to journal about later. In the meantime, you take a panoramic photo of the space you have and send it to the ‘Tokyo Kids’, a group chat with the 2013 Fukurodani crowd in Tokyo. Photo captioned,  _ “home sweet home! Yay~” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> •Gift giving is an important aspect of many cultures. [Here ](https://wow-j.com/en/Allguides/other/tips_manners/02252_en/) is a link to learn some aspects of gift-giving in Japan. Technically with Reader moving around meeting people there are probably lots of ‘gifts’ and ‘greeting’ being interchanged, but let’s just keep it a min--for story’s sake.  
> •For moving specifically, traditionally people may give their neighbors [Hikkoshi Soba](https://www.tasteatlas.com/hikkoshi-soba), but this is pretty much obsolete now and a bit outdated.  
> •[Where are the linguistics nerds] The [Kansai dialect ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kansai_dialect)Miya Atsumu speaks in is actually the collective term for all the variants spoken around the [Kansai region ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kansai_region)(Tokyo is in the [Kanto Region](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kant%C5%8D_region)). But because Osaka is the largest city in Kansai, ‘Kansai Dialect’ is normally referring to the Osaka variant.  
> •Will mention some more about [Onigiri ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Onigiri) in future chapters, maybe. But yes, the all-time favorite rice ball, convenient and packs a load of beautiful carbs. There used to be a few standard fillings, but now the possibilities are ENDLESS. The rice itself has a lot of variations now too. Here’s a [cool video about a very popular and unorthodox Onigiri shop.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eAqiEPbINVU&t=327s)  
> •The most impressive thing about the convenience store onigiri is the PACKAGING. Truly so genius, the mechanisms allow for the seaweed to be kept separate from the rice until you eat to avoid sogginess. Here’s a [video of it in action](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=03k39RVpjdo).  
> •A quick shout-out to the rice plant. It's truly such an amazing crop. I can't begin to express my admiration for it. There are so many varieties around the world and different tastes depending on how it's processed after harvesting. Not to mention the different rice seasons and planting methods too! SO SO DIVERSE. But, here are some specifics on just [Japanese Rice Varieties](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_rice). Have fun Wiki-surfing.  
> •'Riceball' style foods and wrapped/stuffed foods are common in so many cultures around the world. Have you tried an onigiri and something similar? I love carbs. Let's be foodies together <3


	16. This is Osaka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's so special about Osaka? It's your first day at the Osaka office and there's plenty of work to pick up. After much anticipation, you finally get to visit Osamu's flagship onigiri shop. How does your day go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I just realize the hits passed 1k already on this story. Thank you all who are still with this story and all those who just joined in. <3

**_How do you differentiate one city from another? If you take a picture of the concrete sidewalk, would you be able to tell? What about a brick on the wall, or a photo of the shared sky?_ **

Osaka is very much it’s own. It’s not “the other Tokyo”, nor is the city trying to compete with any other metropolis. From its design, there isn’t much beyond an expansive concrete jungle. Streets are crowded, subways are packed, and humans are scurrying around in much too close of a proximity. It might leave the average tourist or unsuspecting person confused as to which big city they are in. Sure, there is the Osaka Castle as a landmark, but make no mistake, the air, water, and people are Osaka. 

You were trained to match the strides of the Tokyo office-workers, but the Osaka salaryman’s gait easily puts their counterpart to shame. People here walk much quicker, and not due to the stress-factor that time is always slipping away. No, these people are ahead, simply because they are faster than time. Their steps bounce upwards rather than clunking down. Loud clamor fills the space around middle-aged men telling their lame jokes to a crowd willing to laugh in response. The sizzle of food-stalls offers appetizing bites and delight. It’s a small glimpse into the real food mecca that is entrenched between all the streets and alleyways. The schoolgirls howl with their friends, kicking their feet. Their skirts go past their knees, unlike their Tokyo sisters. If Tokyo is best described as earth-tones, where things are muted and harmonious, then Osaka must be the primary colors. Red, yellow, and blue. Bold and bright, with the potential to conjure any color imaginable. 

The Tokyo office is on the 21st floor of a high-rise building. The Osaka office is all of the first 4 floors of a six-story office building. There are 2 more floors above, belonging to another company. The office space is not nearly as sleek or polished as Tokyo’s. No stainless steel pillars, full pane glass windows, no shiny lobby. You are greeted by the HR representative and he leads you for an office tour. The interior is like any other office space: long tables stacked with papers, computer monitors, and tabletop dividers to mark each employee’s battle station. Desk phones ring occasionally throughout the building. Office workers hold the phones between their cheeks and shoulders, hands still busy on the keyboard. Others scurry down the hall with printouts. 

Your supervisor is one of the senior managers, Suzuki. He’s a stout man with a belly and a receding hairline. Assistant Director Matsuda spoke highly of him and entrusted you to his care. You’ve spoken to Suzuki once over the phone before and found him very easy to talk to. Now seeing his workspace in person, you can see why Matsuda would give high regard to him. His desk is packed with drafts and books, but carefully stacked and lovingly color-coded. There’s a careful and systematic order to his chaos. 

“Welcome! Hope moving in wasn’t too bad,” Suzuki greets happily. “We’re really busy, so you’re going to be thrown right in. I think you’ll be okay though! I’ll call Hana and Jun over, let’s get to know each other.”

“Pleasure is all mine. This is some special wagashi from a shop near the Tokyo office, please share it with the rest of the group.” You offer a box of traditional snacks to your new superior, which he accepts graciously.

Manager Suzuki calls over your co-workers, Hana and Jun. The four of you have an introductory meeting in one of the many conference rooms while having a bite of the snacks you brought. Hana is a petite and curvy woman with a beauty mark on her chin. Her nails are colorfully and intricately manicured, decorated with small gems and bows. Jun is a bit older, closer to thirty from your judgment, and sports a very striking, androgynous haircut. Their outfit only accentuates the long straight line of their figure. Suzuki introduces the current workload and schedules, then Hana and Jun each share more about the specific works. One of the group’s primary projects is a fantasy, young adult novel series. The seventh volume of the saga is set to release next month and the eighth, unannounced, is already in the making. A couple of other slice-of-life and romance novels are planned for release around spring, which is when those genres get the most sales. It all sounds good to you. No matter the work, these people will be your comrade-in-arms for the days to come. And at the very least, you like them very much. This team dynamic is unlike the one in Tokyo and you really begin to wonder why you hadn’t considered Osaka in the first place when job-searching. Maybe Bokuto also felt this culture-shock after coming here. And knowing him, he probably meshed right in. After the meeting, you are settled into your new work station and begin to look over some of the works that the team is working on. There’s so much to familiarize yourself with and you don’t notice that it’s already lunchtime.

“Come have lunch with us,” Jun suggests. “We’re old customers at Onigiri Miya. It’s a must for any Tokyoites coming here.” 

Hana nods, “I know they opened up a location in Tokyo, but it’s not the flagship and it doesn’t have Osamu. So this place is a thousand times better.”

You take their invitation with great pleasure, happy to have a chance to get to know the two outside of work. While walking out of the building, Hana begins to catch you up on the history of the onigiri shop. 

“Did you know that the owner’s twin is the setter for the MSBY Black Jackals? Ahh, it’s just so sweet and cute. Especially when Osamu also wears Atsumu’s jersey!” 

“You must be a huge fan Hana!”

“She’s not,” Jun corrects. “She just thinks they’re hot, but she has zero knowledge of volleyball actually.” 

“Jun! I feel attacked! I appreciate them alright, and I look respectfully...from a distance.”

You chuckle and continue to listen to Hana and Jun chat about what they’re going to get for lunch. It doesn’t take very long to get to Onigiri Miya. It’s the first time you’re stepping foot at the humble flagship, although not the first time you have enjoyed the shop’s spectacular creations. 

“Osamu! We’re back~” Hana greets cheerfully. 

“Hey! Hana and Jun, welcome back!” Osamu is busy behind the counter rushing out lunchtime orders. “Oh and another, Y/N right?” 

“Yup! Great memory.” The three of you take a seat at the bar area. 

Osamu props a menu up in front of you and points to a section, “have a look, that’s our house special today.” 

You open the menu and begin to browse through the numerous options. There are traditional fillings and toppings like pickled plum, salted cod roe, bonito flakes…and some other adventurous combinations. A moment later, you point to one, “I’ll have this one. Atsumu brought it the other day and it was so delicious. If I didn’t get first pick, I’m sure I wouldn’t have been able to get my hands on it.” 

Osamu chuckles and thanks you for the compliment. You notice Hana’s piercing gaze on you. She squints slightly and scoots closer. “Wait. So….you know Atsumu?” 

“Not personally, I’m friends with his teammate, Bokuto. Are the athletes super popular around here?” 

“Wow. Why didn’t you say so! That’s pretty cool! No, they aren’t like idols or anything, but people in general at least know of the team. Most wouldn’t know their names though unless they were a fan-fan.” 

“But they make us Osakans hella proud, you know, ” Jun adds on.

You smile, “I’m sure. they are quite competitive in the league too.” 

“Like how Jun ratted me out, I know nothing about volleyball, don’t really care, don’t watch the games. But man, those shoulders, arms...have you seen their thighs? Whoo, that one fried chicken commercial the team did was divine! That’s how I got into them, by the way. Sakusa’s piercing gaze, swoon! And Atsumu too, his face is just precious. I’m tired of looking at my idols and models, and this is fresh.” 

“Stop being a pervert, Hana.” Jun smacks the menu against her head. “Your thirst is showing. And Osamu is here listening too. This is embarrassing.” 

Osamu laughs from behind the counter while prepping your order. “I don’t mind, haha! I’m Atsumu’s twin right? Feels like I’m getting complimented too.” 

“Ouch! Jun! See? Osamu doesn’t mind either. Anyways, and Bokuto, his whole body is just solid.” 

Jun turns to you with a sorry expression. “Please excuse her. She’s a pervert.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “No, it’s alright. Um. I think many fans would think that they um have a very athletic body. They did train a lot.” 

“Yea, but it isn’t just athletic. Athletic means different things for different sports. No, Bokuto is buff. Those pecs and thighs don’t lie.” 

You’ve seen that chest receive and yes, that was quite impressive. And amusing. ‘Buff’ yes, you thought that for a moment too when you saw him again. But that’s not the first thing you would notice about Bokuto. There’s his eccentric hair, and those ‘hey hey hey’...

“Okay Hana, time to eat.” Jun takes Hana’s order from Osamu and puts it in front of her. 

“He’s thick I tell you. Oh, YAY! Food!” Hana’s attention is quickly diverted to her food. 

While Hana is preoccupied with her food, Jun turns towards you. “Don’t mind her, haha. Did you want to say something initially?” 

“Ah, basically some of the athletes helped me with move-in the other day. They said they don’t need thanks, but I still want to do a little something. I don’t know them personally though, so it’s quite difficult.” 

Osamu places your order in front of you. “Why don’t you do housewarming? Food’s answer to everything.” 

You nod slowly, thinking about the idea, “Oh that’s an option! But what can I make, I’m not the best cook around.” 

“Well, grilled, baked, fried is always easiest. There’s a lot of options. Don’t have to be fancy, ya know. Just have fun.” 

Osamu’s suggestions light up your eyes, “oh, my new place actually has an oven, could do a batch of baked wings or something. That’s doable. Thanks, I’m not trying to cook up a storm.” 

“No problem, and if you run into problems, just let me know and you can all eat more rice balls. Your patronage is always welcomed.” 

You laugh at Osamu’s statement while wiping your hands on a napkin. “You can rest assured I’m visiting a lot more. Food’s delicious today, as always.”

The afternoon goes by even faster than the morning. You are catching up on knowledge regarding the fantasy series. There are many drafts and correspondences with the author that you need to review. Hana and Jun are especially helpful in outlining the best order to consume the material. For the whole afternoon, you don’t even glance at your phone and even your cup of coffee is barely touched. It doesn’t take long for the sun to already make its traverse across the sky. The city’s neon lights are in full blaze outside the office window. Hana invites you out for dinner with her friends. She frequently goes to various mixers to meet new people and suggests to bring you along. You’re already dead tired on the first day. So, you decline and offer to accompany her on a different occasion. Nightlife in Osaka is famous for many reasons. The bars, clubs, restaurants are a hot business. Food is the center of it all. Of course, there’s a definite underground business of entertainment buried underneath the flashy lights, but for the typical citizen, the beautiful lights are all one would experience. The exploration of a new city would have to wait, however, all you want right now is a peaceful dinner and some sleep.

Eating alone isn’t anything new. Some people find it a lonely and sad endeavor. Truthfully, sometimes it is. Other times, it just so happens that you are eating by yourself. There are no additional sentiments to it. It’s just a meal. You’re watching some videos on the phone while eating a simple dinner. Time passes quickly and you don’t notice that you’re ‘alone’ either. You are just about to reach a finger out to skip an ad when the phone rings. You tap the green ‘accept’ button. 

“Hello? Bokuto?” You greet.

“Hey!” Bokuto answers. 

“Everything okay? You need something?” 

“Um, just wondering if your first day went well.” 

You switch the phone to your dominant hand. “Yea, everyone’s quite nice. Office is a tad smaller but it’s cozy. We went to Osamu’s for lunch.” 

“That’s good! Yea Osamu’s is fairly close to your building...” You wait for Bokuto to continue, but he doesn’t follow-up.

“So I was wondering.” You begin slowly. “ Would your team be interested in coming for a housewarming? I want to thank you all for helping me move in, but I know everyone’s busy too.” 

“Housewarming? Oh, I don’t know, I can ask? That sounds like an awful lot of work for you too.” 

“No! Not at all. Really, you all helped me so much. Maybe I’ll contact Meian to see if there’s a slot in the team’s schedule?” 

“I’ll go ask everyone!” Bokuto says quickly.

“Okay then. Let me know.” You wait for Bokuto to say something, but he doesn’t follow.

“Did practice go well today?” You ask, prompting a different topic. 

“Practice? Oh. Yea, it’s the usual really. I need to work on my spikes more, even Coach said they’re looking a bit soft today.” The second part is added a bit more softly. You can practically hear the disappointment in his voice. 

“Maybe it’s just an off-day,” You comfort. “Don’t worry too much. Take it easy before the next match.” 

“Yea,” he breathes out. “Did you eat dinner?” 

“Mhm, just finishing up.” You look at your near-empty bowl. “Did you eat too Bokuto?”

“Um...not yet.” After a moment he adds on. “I’m making some food now though.” 

“That’s good, should I leave you to it then?” 

“It’s okay!” Bokuto replies quickly. You hear some pots clanging together in the background, like something fell. Then a moment of silence. 

“Bokuto?” You ask. “You alright?” 

“Yea! Um, I won’t bother you. It was nice talking to you...ow. Sorry.” 

“SEE?! You ARE a hazard in the kitchen.” 

Bokuto laughs a little on the other side of the line. “Okay, fine, talk to you later.” 

“Kay, take care.” You say, ready to hang up.

“Wait!” Bokuto abruptly interjects.

“Yes?” 

“Um. I’m glad you’re here.” He mumbles quietly. 

You smile into the phone. “Yup, me too. Eat well.” 

“Thanks, bye.” 

After the phone call, you finish the last bites of your dinner and clean up the dishes. It’s not good to shower immediately after dinner, so you journal for a bit too about your day. It’s not an everyday thing, but there are too many memorable moments for you not to note them down. There’s your first morning commute in Osaka, the meeting with your coworkers, and the lovely conversation at Onigiri Miya. You suppose the post-dinner call with Bokuto is a highlight of the day too. You continue scribbling your thoughts away. After you close your journal, you lightly massage the two sides of your cheeks. They’re kind of sore. Have you been grinning for a long time? It’s as if the muscles pulling up the corners of your lips are overworked, frozen, and stuck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> •Phew, what a long chapter! The comparisons between Tokyo and Osaka are quite a bit romanticized. Some say the differences are stereotypes, others loosely identify the characteristics as more of personal pride to be an inhabitant of said city.  
> •The major stereotype is that Tokyoites are more rigid and uptight, whereas Osakans are more generous and boisterous. Here is some more info about [Osaka](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Osaka). Another [link](http://factsanddetails.com/japan/cat25/sub168/item981.html). And a fun [20 reasons to love Osaka list](https://www.ladyironchef.com/2014/10/20-reasons-to-love-osaka/). And also a [“comparison” of Tokyo and Osaka](https://livejapan.com/en/article-a0004331/).  
> •This [link has a photo of a 'standard' office layout](https://japanintercultural.com/free-resources/articles/role-clarity-in-japanese-organizations/) and some information on role-hiearchy (briefly touched upon in ch 3 I think)  
> •School uniforms vary across schools and regions. Won’t get into other research-y links, [this one is fun though](https://learnjapaneseanime.com/culture-custom/life/japanese-school-girls-skirt-length/). It shows a statistic of girls’ uniform skirt lengths. Whoops is statistics research-y? Sorry lol.


	17. A New Osakan's Home Game Pt I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By calling the game in Osaka "home game", that makes Osaka home, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, friends. I wanted to bring the prime chunk of fluff for all of you, but I decided to cut the chapter into two due to its word length. In part 2, you’ll see how the fluff machine for this chapter has malfunctioned. I know I essentially promised one of you in the comments, but alas, truthfully the moment is coming. And it's going to be dedicated to you.

“I should’ve known a promotion also means more work and responsibilities.” Akaashi says on the other end of the phone. 

You’re on the way to the Osaka Municipal Central Gymnasium to watch Bokuto’s team practice before the match later this evening. During the commute, you’re catching up with Akaashi. He’s been very busy with new manga releases. You step off the subway and transfer to the C line. 

“Hey, better than working under your previous senior,” you point out. “Means you’re dependable and great at what you do. Don’t get too caught up with work though, burnout is real.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m handling it all pretty well. My team is supportive. I also go out with the Fukurodani bunch every other week or so.” 

Akaashi continues to catch you up on some of the recent news. Yukie is busy with a lot of new patients and also leading seminars at local community centers. Komi’s drama is set to air soon. 

“But what about you?” He turns the question over. There are a lot of things you can share. 

“Well, the Osaka office isn’t as sleek as Tokyo, but the people are really friendly. There’s some backlog on the projects, but I think they are at least interesting.” You ponder a moment. ”You should visit sometime. Also, I finally went to Osamu’s shop last week. I swear, tastes different than his to-go versions.” 

“The Tokyo location opened up and the line is ridiculous. But got to admit, it’s just not the same if Osamu’s not the one making it.” 

“Haha all the more reason to come visit me and Bokuto here.” 

“Oh yea, how’s Bokuto?” 

“Don’t you two call often?” You’re confused. Aren’t the two supposed to be best friends?

“Occasionally, but he sometimes leaves the actually important details out.” 

“That sounds like him,” you laugh. “I think he’s doing really well. They have a game tonight, I’m just headed over to watch them practice.”

“The game’s in Osaka right?” 

“Yup, going to be my first home game.” 

“So Osaka’s finally ‘home’?” 

You laugh at Akaashi’s sharp observation. “Something like that.”

You get off at the Asashiobashi Station. The streets are much wider here and the space is vast. The Osaka Municipal Central Gymnasium is cleverly designed underground. The dome roof peeking out is covered with grass and greenery. Currently, patches of snow leave the dome like a buried igloo. But this place must be so nice in the spring and summer; a well designed green zone for people to roam around. Banners for the game tonight are set up already. MSBY Black Jackal vs Japan Railway Warriors. 

“Hi!” Manager Akiyama greets you near the entrance and presents his business card. You receive it with both hands, courteously. “Please follow me. The athletes are currently signing some materials for the fans.” 

“Do they have a lot of fan events?” You ask, curious about the life of the V.League athletes. 

“It depends. We do have some fan events every now and then. This time, since it’s a home game, we’re raffling away some signed posters and jerseys. The team also occasionally participates in charity events for the community. Coach Foster loves working with the local schools and young volleyball players.” Akiyama takes you down the hallway. The circular dome ceiling yields a circular hallway that bends as well. The walls are covered with press releases and newspaper clippings. 

“That’s the main arena over there,” Akiyama points towards a couple doors leading to the main venue. “We’ll be going to the mixed sports practice room, where our athletes are right now. The opponents should be practicing at the Minato Sports Complex not far from this building.” 

“How long have you been working as a manager for the team?” You ask, impressed by how organized Akiyama is. 

“Hm, close to ten years now, so I’m pretty familiar with all the ins and outs.There’s always a lot of logistics to handle and for the most part, the athletes are quite independent. I manage the newer recruits more closely.” Akiyama pushes open a door for you to enter. “And we’re here. Feel free to have a seat anywhere, I’ll have to go attend to some other stuff.”

The wooden floors of the arena are very polished. The overhead lights reflect brightly off the surface. This room is moderately sized and fits only two volleyball courts. A couple other people in casual clothes are sitting on the benches too, probably family and friends of some other athletes. The main starting lineup is currently huddled around a long table off to the side that is packed with t-shirts and posters.

“You’re here!” Hinata notices you first and waves. The others follow Hinata and spot you as well. 

“Hey!!” Bokuto waves excitedly too, capping his marker and coming over. The others wave to you as well. You notice two other members that you didn’t meet last time for move-in. 

“Was it hard finding this place?” Bokuto asks. 

You shake your head and begin to unravel your length scarf. You struggle a bit, it’s almost like a blanket circling your neck many times. “No, I think I’m getting used to the subway map already.” 

“Let me introduce you!” Bokuto helps to unravel the last loop of your scarf and tugs on your coat sleeve towards his teammates. “This is Sakusa. He’s also an outside hitter.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Sakusa gives you a nod, which you return. He adds on, “you’re quite different from Bokuto. He keeps mentioning you often, so I was also curious what kind of enigma you’d be.” 

“Omi! What does THAT mean?” Bokuto demands, furrowing his brows. 

“Exactly what it sounds like.” Sakusa replies nonchalantly. You see a faint smirk flash for a brief moment. So this is what Bokuto meant when he said Sakusa was a prickly softie. 

“Whatever,” Bokuto points out the other member you haven’t met before. "And this is Barnes! He’s basically like the real adult in the team."

“Haha, don’t say it like I’m that old, Bo. I just happen to have a son that’s all.” Barnes laughs. “Nice to meet you!” 

“Pleased to meet you, Sakusa. And Barnes.” 

You continue to chat briefly with the group while watching them finish signing their autographs. When you bring up the housewarming again, it’s met with enthusiasm. Bokuto did bring it up to the group, but scheduling has been especially difficult. The athletes are still in-season and each have their own lives beyond volleyball that they need to take care of. And you’re not exactly close to them either. Barnes, for instance, turns down your invitation again to spend as much time possible with his family. Tomas too, has plans on off days until the end of the season. And so does Inunaki. 

“Ah, that weekend is a good idea, but I can’t make it.” Meian looks at his phone calendar. “What about just next week?” 

You look at your calendar and the number of meetings piled. It’s going to be the dead-week for the office to rush out the pre-Valentine’s novels. It’s difficult to really find a compromising time between a group of individuals who are all extremely busy. Maybe this is just all a bad idea. “I can’t. It’s going to be a busy week for the office. I’ll probably be doing overtime even on the weekends.” 

“Bummer. Well, there’s always off-season time too.” Meian tucks his phone back into the pocket. “But really, don’t worry about doing anything elaborate. Bokuto’s friend is our friend too and we’re just really glad you are here to watch our home game.” 

You smile at Meian’s reassurance. 

“Hey! We’ll still be there though! We don’t have much to do.” Bokuto pats your back. “Unlike the adults of the team, hahaha.” 

“I’ll have time!” Hinata says. “I’d love to visit your place again!” 

Atsumu nods too and tugs on Sakusa’s jacket. “Omi-omi, you’re not busy either right?” 

He ends up nodding as well, “then we’ll be in your care.” 

You initially thought that Sakusa might turn down your invitation. You already expected some of the athletes to have other plans made already. A bit disappointing, but certainly not unexpected. But even if it’s just one person coming, it’s going to be good and you’re planning to go all out. It’s a new place, but everything will be scrubbed clean, again.

“Which of our autographs do you like the best?” Atsumu comes up next to you, flashing a poster with everyone’s signature.

“Hm,” you take a good look at each of them. You study each of them for a bit. It’s courtesy though, you already have your first pick from a moment’s glance. “I’d have to say Sakusa’s. It’s very sophisticated and proper.” 

“But what about mine?” Bokuto asks, pointing at his own. “Doesn’t this look proper too?”

“Yea!” Atsumu also points to his own signature.

Hinata looks at you expectantly.

You laugh. “Geez, what’s the point of asking me to pick one then? They’re all unique. Bokuto’s little swirly there with the accents is cute. Looks like a fistbump? Or a foot? Atsumu’s signature is nice as well, the strokes look confident and professional. And Hinata’s too, the smiley face is cute. That’s your first name right? It’s very international.” 

After you go around appeasing each of them, like a schoolteacher with her young students, they finally look a bit more smug and comforted. Sakusa’s eyes narrow at the three. 

“All those nice things said about you all and she still picked mine as the best.” 

“Damn it. Omi-omi, no one’s asking you!” Bokuto and Atsumu yell. 

The argument only comes to an end when Coach Foster comes in with a whistle. The athletes immediately stop fooling around and go up to their coach for directions. Foster has the starting line-up warm up with the rest of the team not playing the game. You also take a seat off to the side. The court is soon only filled with squeaking shoes, the sound of volleyballs, and the athletes calling for a toss. Without the distractions of a crowd. If you close your eyes, you might think you are back watching the Fukurodani team practice. 

“Inspiring, isn’t it?” A voice sounds beside you. 

You turn and see Coach Foster sitting by you. You didn’t even notice his presence there. You immediately get up and greet him.

“Coach Foster, so nice meeting you in person!” 

“Likewise, sit.” He smiles and gestures for you to return to your seat. Crow’s feet crinkle up at the corner of his eyes. “Bokuto mentioned you many times. He likes to tell stories of his high school friends to anyone who would listen. And also, I must thank you still, for helping get my book out into print.”

That’s right. You chanced upon the discovery of Coach Foster’s childrens’ book, _How Does a Volleyball Fly_ , last year when you were still in Tokyo. 

“It’s an inspiring book, Coach Foster. I think a lot of children and adults have much to learn and enjoy from it.”

Foster laughs. “That’s too big of a compliment. I just want something to help the young ones learn to love hobbies and maybe sports.” 

“And through sports, the lessons transfer to a lot of other aspects in life.” You add, turning towards Foster, who is currently fixated on the athletes. He doesn’t comment on your statement.

“Lots of unfamiliar faces right? The public hasn’t met most of them.” Foster says. “Many of them are the newer recruits or are currently still fighting for a spot in the main starting lineup. If they are lucky, they might play at a lower stakes game. Or maybe as a sub. All of the athletes are teammates, colleagues, brothers, and rivals. It’s a tough relationship.” He turns towards you. “Do you know how long a volleyball athlete’s professional career lasts?” 

The sudden question puts you off. You do know that the lifespan of a pro athlete varies from sport to sport and from athlete to athlete. Foster is specifying “professional career”, so it’s definitely not some band-aid answer like “as long as you’d like” or “lifetime”. You shake your head.

“33. That’s the average age of retirement. When you do the math, there isn’t much time at all is there? For them, they peak anywhere from 21 to 27. When do you peak? You won’t know until you’re actually past it.”

Thirty-three. It’s still better than women’s gymnastics--that much you do know. But still, 33, that’s barely into adulthood. For many, that’s when you finally have some sense of what you want to do with your life. For an athlete, that might be the finishing line? Bokuto is only 24. Even if the average is 33, he would still have 9 years. And Bokuto isn’t average. He’ll surely play for a long, long time.

“Do you know why people love athletes?” Foster continues. “That drive and focus, that predatory hunger in their eyes. It’s something out of the ordinary folks’ reach. The average human might only seek to get ahead of a coworker for a raise. The fighting athlete seeks, above all else, to rise above the limitations of their body and mind. ” 

You follow his gaze to the athletes. Whoever decided that tossing an air-filled ball with a guideline of rules is a sport? And that it is fun? And somehow it’s so intriguing and exhilarating that people dedicate their lives to this craft. People run businesses around this activity. And people pay to come watch. Yes. Why, indeed?

Foster laughs again off to the side. “Haha, now I just got a little too philosophical. Don’t mind an old man’s random blabber.” 

“Not at all Coach Foster.” You’re fully captivated by his speech. It’s been a while since words have given you the goosebumps. “I think you opened my eyes in a new way. I can understand a bit more why Bokuto looks up to you so much.” 

“Bokuto,” he pauses for a bit, looking a bit nostalgic. “He’s a special boy. I recruited him straight out of high-school. His build, definitely a volleyball athlete. No doubt. His raw skill impressed me at the V.League tryouts session. Clear potential. However-” Foster is quickly cut short. “Bokuto! Take it easy, we have a match this evening! Hinata! You too!” 

You flash your eyes over to the court. Bokuto and Hinata just followed through with a spike, probably with too much force than necessary. You are fixated on the ‘however’, waiting for Coach Foster to continue. However what? What more does Bokuto possibly not offer? It doesn’t help that you’ll never get to hear the end of Foster’s explanations since Akiyama is calling Foster away immediately for some logistical questions. Before Foster leaves, he leaves you with a few more words. “Some food for thought, miss magician. Mimesis or Anti-mimesis. Is it really only about the arts? What about for the athlete. Do sports imitate life or does life imitate sports?” 

Foster’s words continue to ring in the back of your mind as you watch the athletes continue their practice. Your brain hurts from trying to decipher and decode the answers to his question. It’s messy and circular, like the whole building you’re in right now. You break your thoughts at the sight of Bokuto waving at you from a distance. You wave back. He gestures two fingers at you and flips it between himself and you a couple times, then swings his hand in the air. 

_“You. Watch me. Spike.”_

You chuckle and flash an OK sign. This is a personal demonstration, dedicated to you. Bokuto grins widely and tosses the ball over to Atsumu, who sets it high up for Bokuto’s run-up. Three blockers jump from the other side of the net. Bokuto makes contact and an explosive sound rings through from the cross shot. It’s full of energy and vigor. The delight on his face is unmistakable. Just like the little boy in the Foster’s book, it’s a special dance with his favorite sport. A special, unbreakable synergy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> •Are you ready for some immersion? FYI, the google map links work better on the computer. On the phone, it'll just show you the general set of photos, rather than the specific photo I picked.  
> •[Osaka Municipal Central Gymnasium](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Osaka_Municipal_Central_Gymnasium) is also called Maruzen Intec Arena. This was very fun to do some research on. There are two arenas. We’ll get to the main arena in the next chapter! Lots of different sports have practice and competitions here. From photos, the number of sports and events hosted are very diverse.  
> •If you zoom a bit on [google maps](https://www.google.com/maps/place/Maruzen+Intec+Arena+Osaka/@34.6627686,135.4530757,15z/data=!4m5!3m4!1s0x0:0x192d77e9ec6f65f9!8m2!3d34.6594505!4d135.4447072), you can see the location of the Asashiobashi Station, a bit upper right. It’s on the Green Chuo (C-Line). And you can see the Minato Sports Center near there too. I clicked it and noticed that people have volleyball matches there, so I just tossed the opponents there haha.  
> •This [link on google maps](https://www.google.com/maps/uv?pb=!1s0x6000e8873662eaa9%3A0x192d77e9ec6f65f9!3m1!7e115!4shttps%3A%2F%2Flh5.googleusercontent.com%2Fp%2FAF1QipPSko0d7AM_e73BpK9ktmQ-Y1CVlkmQSjGhvvP-%3Dw64-h65-n-k-no!5sosaka%20gym%20central%20-%20Google%20Search!15sCgIgARICCAI&imagekey=!1e10!2sAF1QipMiLOQE5XV4hXOIvMVVkxkJfozKzzBiwE-luMgl&hl=en) lets you see 360 views of the inside and outside the whole building. The first 360 view should be the main arena with all the seats. Depending on the sport and needs, this space can get transformed. You can interact and look around! Explore~  
> •This is the [practice room our chapter is in](https://www.google.com/maps/uv?pb=!1s0x6000e8873662eaa9%3A0x192d77e9ec6f65f9!3m1!7e115!4shttps%3A%2F%2Flh5.googleusercontent.com%2Fp%2FAF1QipPSko0d7AM_e73BpK9ktmQ-Y1CVlkmQSjGhvvP-%3Dw64-h65-n-k-no!5sosaka%20gym%20central%20-%20Google%20Search!15sCgIgARICCAI&imagekey=!1e10!2sAF1QipNqTyx2Jbst1bcT1R445-JYBfSnnon9cJcDcaY0&hl=en). I’m not sure if it’s the sub-arena though. Also 360 interactive.  
> •[Photo of the same ‘practice’ room](https://www.google.com/maps/uv?pb=!1s0x6000e8873662eaa9%3A0x192d77e9ec6f65f9!3m1!7e115!4shttps%3A%2F%2Flh5.googleusercontent.com%2Fp%2FAF1QipPSko0d7AM_e73BpK9ktmQ-Y1CVlkmQSjGhvvP-%3Dw64-h65-n-k-no!5sosaka%20gym%20central%20-%20Google%20Search!15sCgIgAQ&imagekey=!1e10!2sAF1QipNaHcROsyof118OwRx099CZZVSvYkpgLKZoEX4s&hl=en) or sub-arena again, with some volleyball nets set up. I imagine our characters there right now.  
> •[Photo of the main arena set-up for one of the world cup matches. ](https://www.google.com/maps/uv?pb=!1s0x6000e8873662eaa9%3A0x192d77e9ec6f65f9!3m1!7e115!4shttps%3A%2F%2Flh5.googleusercontent.com%2Fp%2FAF1QipPSko0d7AM_e73BpK9ktmQ-Y1CVlkmQSjGhvvP-%3Dw64-h65-n-k-no!5sosaka%20gym%20central%20-%20Google%20Search!15sCgIgAQ&imagekey=!1e10!2sAF1QipNSxiBK1gKy0mB2yjDZgZzXU-T6N-fUArtDXAyL&hl=en)  
> •[Mimesis (Art imitate Life) ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mimesis)is used in literary criticism and philosophy to discuss the representation or “imitation” of the real world in art/literature. The classical definition is first introduced by Plato and Aristotle. The term is later used for art/literary theory.  
> •[Anti-mimesis (Life imitate Art) ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Life_imitating_art)is the opposite of Mimesis, most popularly brought up by Oscar Wilde, “Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life”  
> •[The post about their signatures](https://hqofficialart.tumblr.com/post/633030160115974144/timeskip-autographs-send-an-ask-for-a-certain), ahahaha. [Bokuto said his autograph is the same as elementary school? ](https://haikyuu.fandom.com/wiki/Monster_Generation_Special_Interview)I was doing ugly bubble letters in grade school.


	18. A New Osakan's Home Game Pt II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto, the world is your stage. Fly and Soar all you’d like.  
> I'll be watching from afar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much to all the readers and those just passing by. Your love and support are most cherished. Was going to wait another day, but I couldn't help it.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” 

Bokuto delights over the successful spike. Hinata is clapping rapidly off to the side in awe. Sakusa rolls his eyes. Atsumu is citing his own superior toss as the main reason for the spike. Foster chides Bokuto again for overdoing it before the game and decides to end practice. The athletes thank him then begin their cooldown exercises and grab some water. Bokuto soon comes side-skipping over to you and plops down on the floor. He’s still catching his breath. 

“Did you see that spike?” he asks excitedly. “Looks different up close right?”

You return his enthusiasm. “I sure did!” 

Bokuto continues to talk about his practice and how pumped he is for the match later tonight. All the while he continues his cooldown stretches. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the towel around his neck, without a care in the world. A smile finds itself to the edge of your lips. You notice a few tufts of hair have fallen across his forehead so you reach over to smooth the strands back. Fingertips lightly graze across his forehead. 

“Ah! Your hand is so nice and cool!” Bokuto exclaims, cradling your hand to his forehead. 

You laugh and reflexively bring the other hand to Bokuto’s face as well, pressing the palm against his cheek. Bokuto’s hand also comes up to secure the new cooling source in place. His eyes are closed and relaxed. You feel the cold in your hands quickly getting drawn out from both ends. The temperature composition is changing rapidly.

Your eyes widen slightly and the smile falters. A sinking quicksand has caught you unaware of how gravely intimate this is. The shock makes you draw your hands away, wanting to escape. Bokuto holds on even tighter, unwilling for the coolness to go. 

“Just a while longer,” he sighs happily. “I should bring a cooling pack to practice each time.”

“Bokuto…” you croak out.

Bokuto’s eyes open to acknowledge you. Specks of gold, orange, and brown pattern the iris. Pupils slightly dilated. Lashes flutter up and down with each blink.

“Did you call me?” Bokuto asks, tilting his head to the side. You pull your hands away sharply, gaze also breaking away. You feel the heat absorbed by your hands rise to your cheeks. It’s burning. And uncomfortable. The overhead lights feel dizzying. Blood rushes to bring oxygen to your brain. 

“You’re so sweaty and gross,” you toss Bokuto’s towel over his face. “And you shouldn’t be tiring yourself out before the match.”

Bokuto shakes the towel off his head. “But I wanted you to see me spike the ball up close!” 

“I will. During the match.” 

“But it’s different,” Bokuto insists. “There aren’t distractions here. And what if Atsumu decides not to set the ball to me? Or I’m benched?” 

“That won’t happen.”

“Then you need to watch the match really closely.” Bokuto laughs.

“Okay, okay. Go.” you give his shoulder a slight push to put some more distance. 

You watch Bokuto go back towards the lockers. Luckily, his teammates have all left and the room is pretty much empty. You take a deep breath. It takes you a moment to regain your composure and calm the raging adrenaline that’s compelling you to flee. You walk out of the gym to go find the restroom.

You wash your hands and splash some water on your face. You look at yourself in the mirror observing the water droplets travel over your features and drip down into the sink. You stare for a good while. Coach Foster’s riddles must be really getting to you. That or the whole circular architecture of the building is just becoming a nauseating maze. Why do the hallways have to be winding? The whole place is underground! You need some oxygen. 

You exit the washroom and search for a way back up to the ground floor. After finding a door leading to the outside world, you go ahead and push it open. The blast of frigid air fills your lungs and restores your senses. Small puffs of breath form clouds outside your mouth. The sky is darkening already. So early. A marker that the season hasn’t yet graduated into spring. You close your eyes and breathe in the cold air. Soon a phone ring cuts through your meditation. 

“Where are you?” Bokuto asks. “I just washed up and I couldn’t find you.” 

Of course he wouldn’t, you practically ran right when he left. 

“Oh. I’m uh-” you try to figure out where you are and look around for some markers. “I’m at...um there is some outdoor seating. I think there’s a cafe.” 

You hear some footsteps in the background. “I know where that is. Don’t move. I’ll go to you. Also, that cafe is horribly overpriced.” 

“Okay,” you put the phone back into your pocket. You’re outside too long and it’s actually feeling a bit too cold now. It doesn’t take long for Bokuto to find where you are. 

“HA! There you are!” Bokuto appears while holding your scarf. “Cold? You forgot this in the gym. Did you say I was the forgetful one? This makes us even!” 

Bokuto steps forward, a large smile decorating his features.

**_Why are you always like this?_ **

He wraps the long scarf around your neck. The ends drape down. 

**_Why do you treat me so kindly?_ **

He carefully wraps the scarf around twice.  __

**_What if I take advantage of your goodwill?_ **

And a third time. 

“Why are you..,” you accidentally whisper into the scarf. The words and sounds are muffled by the thick material. 

“Did you say something?” Bokuto asks, not catching your speech. 

“No.” 

Bokuto steps back to look at how you are now bundled up and nods, pleased with his work. 

“I can take you around a bit outside, there’s still some time before we have to gather,” he offers. “We’re actually right by the main entrance.” 

You shake your head. “I can take care of myself, walk around a bit. I was, um planning on calling Yukie.”

“Okay. You got the tickets, right? Osamu should be in the same section as you.” 

You no. No one is budging. It’s that empty silence again.

“Do you have anything planned after the game?” Bokuto asks. 

“Not really. Probably dinner I guess.”

“I’m planning on eating too!”

“It’s dinnertime after the match.” You point out. “I’m sure most people are going to be having dinner…” 

Bokuto scratches the back of his head. “Haha, you’re right about that.” 

The silence is suffocating. 

“Do you want to have dinner together?” you ask hesitantly. It’s not the first time. It’s just a meal. With a friend. 

Bokuto brightens. “Sure! We’ll go somewhere good. And fun.” 

You’re a bit taken back, “What? Where?” 

Bokuto gives you that mischievous look when he wants to hide a secret that really has no purpose in being a secret. “You’ll find out.” 

You sigh, “Just go focus on the match, don’t lose concentration. Go. I need to call Yukie.” 

“Alright. Tell her I said ‘hi’.” 

“I will.” 

“Also, here.” Bokuto takes a pile of fabric out of his black-hole-of-a-parka pocket and hands it to you. “Team swag, be an Osakan.”

It’s a signed black jersey with a large 12 and BOKUTO printed across the backside. 

“Isn’t this supposed to get raffled away?” You ask, eyebrows raised. 

“Eh, they’ll find a replacement.” He shrugs. “You should be an Osakan.” 

You roll your eyes.“Understood. Go ahead, good luck tonight.” 

“Won’t need it!” he chuckles, pushing the door open quickly.

You watch Bokuto scurry away before taking a seat on one of the steel chairs. It’s a bad idea because your whole back and bottom gets cold. You groan and sit anyways, letting the frost clear your mind. What’s with Bokuto and giving away t-shirts like charity? And you don’t end up calling Yukie.

Fans are lining up to enter the stadium already. It’s still quite early, so it’s not overly crowded yet. You’ll be going to a special side entrance on the lower floor though. While passing through, you spot a young girl tugging on a woman’s coat sleeve. “Mommy, do you think we can meet Bokuto later? Oooh, do you think I can win a jersey?” 

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” the woman is drafting an email on her phone with a sigh. Most likely a working mother still having to check work stuff over the weekend. The girl is wearing a sweater with “Osaka Youth Volleyball” printed across the chest. 

“Excuse me for eavesdropping.” You tap the mother’s shoulders and look at the young girl who is also curiously staring at you. “Do you play volleyball?” 

The girl nods happily, “Yes! And Bokuto is my favorite player!”

“Emi, I thought you said you liked Kanoka from the Red Rabbits?” Her mother asks.

“I still do! But Bokuto is my favorite now!” Emi’s eyes light up brightly. 

You lower to her height. “Really? How come?” 

Emi breaks from her mother’s grasp. “The team came to our club last year to teach us! I was in Bokuto’s group. He’s super fun and he’s really good at volleyball! I love watching him play.” 

Is it the school charity event Bokuto mentioned before? That or another. It seemed like Coach Foster really had a mindset to inspire the young athletes. You’ll do your part too then.

“Here, Emi,” you present the signed jersey Bokuto gave you earlier. “Will you wear this and support Bokuto tonight?” 

Emi looks at the jersey and back at her mom hesitantly. You give her mother a smile to assure your intentions and the woman finally nods. 

“Wow! Thank you so much!” Emi exclaims, carefully taking the jersey. 

“No problem!” you smile and get up. Ah, you’ll have to explain to Bokuto later. He might throw a fit about this. It’s for a good cause though. Who knows, that girl might end up being important for the future of Japanese Volleyball. 

You find your way to the lowest floor and show your ticket to a worker. They lead you to the additional bleachers that are set up closer to center court. Miya Osamu is already there. He waves at you. 

“Osamu!” you greet, taking a seat next to him. Osamu is decked out in his twin’s black jersey. A proud number 13 and MIYA printed on the back-side. 

“Did Bokuto not give you a jersey?” he asks. “Where’s the Osakan pride?”

“He did, I just gave it to a young fan,” you explain. “She probably needs it more than me.” 

Osamu ahhs in understanding. As a former athlete growing up watching athletic idols on TV, he must understand. Music is currently blasting from the loudspeakers, stirring up the moods. People with headphones and clipboards continue to run around. Final inspections of the playing court and the barriers are made. Journalists and photographers check on their gears and electrical units. There’s so much going on with the preparation work leading up to the actual match everyone is waiting for. 

“You played in high school too, right?” you ask Osamu. “How does it feel watching your twin out there?”

“Yea, I did. We were the ‘Miya Twins’ and struck fear into our opponents.” he laughs then softens his expression. “Watching him? I feel happy, seeing him do his thing and chasing his dreams. We’re twins, we used to do everything together, but at some point, our paths diverged. I’m happy with my shop and I feel content knowing he’s in a good spot too. I’ll cheer for him from the sidelines.” 

“He’s lucky to have someone so supportive and always behind him.” 

“You betcha! He still comes to me for advice! And Bokuto too, he’s lucky to have you here supporting him.” 

The mention of Bokuto startles you briefly before you collect yourself. “Bokuto? Nah, he’s got so many fans here. Bokuto’s a social, happy person, and makes friends easily. He’s close with his teammates too.” 

“Sure, but you’re part of his inner circle...” Osamu tries to gather the right words. “You know, where he’s just Bokuto and not MSBY Black Jackal #12.” 

“Oh, I see. I guess since I’m in Osaka now,” you say, trying to grasp Osamu’s point. “Otherwise there’s Akaashi too and our Fukurodani friends as well. We all still talk pretty often.” 

Osamu nods, “yea, that’s still different from just fans.” 

The main arena has a dome ceiling with trapezoidal panels. The surrounding plastic seats alternate blue and red. Some fans arriving early are already seated. You spot them in black jerseys, headbands, and batons. There’s one carrying a cardboard cut-out of Hinata’s face. A few other fans also carry posters with athlete names. Two very prominent “❤❤Miya I LUV U❤❤” and “GO SAKUSA” posters are sprawled out in glitter. Fans range from young to old. The section you and Osamu are in are mostly filled with friends and family of the athletes or other relatively important people. You suppose that you and Osamu are, perhaps, a bit different than “just fans”. A while later, everyone is settled down and the announcer calls for everyone’s attention.

“Welcome everyone to our V.League game, here in Osaka! MSBY Black Jackals versus Japan Railway Warriors! Everyone, please welcome our athletes!!!” 

Meian leads the way, followed by Tomas and the rest of the team. The crowd cheers for the team and their favorite athletes. 

“HI-NA-TA! FLY SHOYO!” Hinata jumps and waves around while still following the procession.

“BO-KU-TO! BO-KU-TO!” Bokuto waves with both hands up in the air.

“SAKUSA!!! AHHH SO COOL!” That earns a small wave from Sakusa.

“MIYA!!!” Atsumu blows two air kisses to each side of the crowd. 

“Heh, show off,” Osamu smirks. “Wait till he serves, it’s the real definition of EXTRA.” 

The two teams stand in a parallel line and greet each other, then break into their team huddle. Words of camaraderie and support are exchanged in secret within their circles. A toss decides that the home team will serve first. In the rotation order, Meian goes first. Like a dependable, central pillar, Meian doesn’t let his team down. A jump-serve flies across the net, true to its path, opening the game. 

It’s different up close. The vibrations from the match can be felt under the soles of your feet. The referee whistle rings in your ears. The expressions of the athletes and the supporting team members are visible. The Jackals take the first point. Followed by three from the opponents. Sakusa’s turn to serve brings the team back to a tie. It’s a struggle, from both teams vying for each point. Atsumu prepares to set the ball. Both Bokuto and Hinata time their run-ups. The Warriors distribute their defense, calculating who is the real attacking force. Bokuto’s jump is powerful, Hinata’s eyes are focused. It’s too hard to decide. 

“Ah, a setter dump! Number 13, Miya Atsumu, saw through a hole in the defense and took the chance! The Jackals pull ahead!” 

Bokuto and Hinata rush up to give Miya a good slap on the back. The crowd goes wild. Coach Foster shakes his fist in confidence. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a proud Osamu grinning like mad. The Jackals are on a roll. The first set ends seemingly in a blink of an eye. The set point is taken by Hinata, pulling off a blitz quick attack with Atsumu. 

The second set begins with Bokuto’s turn to serve. The crowd claps and chants his name in rhythm. It’s addicting and you find yourself absentmindedly clapping with them. Bokuto spins the ball in his hand once and bounces the ball a couple of times before catching it. Bokuto readies his form for the jump-serve. This isn’t the young boy playing ball in the schoolyard. There’s no way that’s the same boy. The one with eyes wide, curious, and observant. His whole existence is that of vibrance. Except, it is still him, and he’s grown up. Journeyed from boy to man. 

The referee’s whistle sounds. 

Up close, you can follow every single detail. Each stray hair, every wrinkle on the jersey. His shoulders, waist, the contour of his thighs, the veins on his forearms. Not a single part of him isn’t primed for this battle against his own nerves and gravity. The most exciting part of a volleyball match might be the moment of a spiker is mid-air, shoulders drawn back, arms ready. If that’s the case, the moment of anticipation must be the serve. Nothing can happen should the starting momentum fail to take flight. 

“Bokuto, nice serve!”

And Bokuto delivers.

What is it again, that Foster asked you about earlier in the day? The strange question about life and sports? So what about their philosophical intricacies? You don’t care. What’s there to ponder about? All you can see is what’s in front of you. The fans scream, cheer, and wave their batons to spur their team forward. For each of the normal humans sitting out here in the arena, the athletes are manifesting something else. And for the young ones watching, an image of what they can one day be. This is the attraction of sports.

If the ceiling were to crash, so be it. If the ground were to split open, just try it. None of these prospects pull anyone’s fixation from the game. And it doesn’t tear your eyes away from him. An average of nine more years? Bokuto and volleyball will be together for many, many more than nine years. It’s not a hope, it’s a belief and a conviction. It’s all his own hard work that has led the way till today. The fans cheering for him and the stadium spotlight on him prove that much. And you, how far have you come in your endeavors? The only lights that shine for you are the dull ones in the office or the ones you pay to keep on every month. Even if you combined them all, they wouldn’t shine nearly as bright as a glimmer on Bokuto tonight. You’re ordinary, but Bokuto on the other hand is extraordinary.

**_Bokuto, the world is your stage. Fly and Soar all you’d like._ **

For however long he’ll play, that’s however long everyone will watch. Like how Osamu claps for Atsumu and how each of the fans watches their idols, you’ll sit on the side and simply admire Bokuto from afar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> •Image of the main arena in previous chapter endnotes. [If you play around in google maps, you can find the outdoor seating area, though the doors are automatic and the chairs are wooden. ](https://www.google.com/maps/uv?pb=!1s0x6000e8873662eaa9%3A0x192d77e9ec6f65f9!3m1!7e115!4shttps%3A%2F%2Flh5.googleusercontent.com%2Fp%2FAF1QipPSko0d7AM_e73BpK9ktmQ-Y1CVlkmQSjGhvvP-%3Dw129-h130-n-k-no!5smaruzen%20arena%20osaka%20-%20Google%20Search!15sCgIgARICCAI&imagekey=!1e10!2sAF1QipO7F7pkIwiZBPHE6VIHaQjk7uSZP3XORGeNrZd_&hl=en)  
> •Reader is just going through too many melodramatic emotions LOOOOL. But great conclusion she came to at the end amirite hahaha  
> •I think the cute ost I would imagine playing in the background of fluff would by mamerico’s “kirari futari”.  
> •I also think I listened to Haikyuu OST ‘Team Potential’ one too many times in an attempt to write out gameplay.


	19. A Night Along Dotonbori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lights and waters of the Dotonbori scenery are exciting. The tranquil paths of Hozenji Yokocho are peaceful. The night is still young. It's time to forget everything and just be present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lengthier chapter that hopefully stirs ups wanderlust! (But stay safe everyone and wear a mask~)

You and Osamu are waiting off to the side while the athletes cool down and wash up. Most of the fans are slowly making their way to the exits. Some are lingering around to wait for the first wave of fans to leave first. The crowd is already mostly dispersed when the locker rooms open. 

“Great game tonight! We haven’t had a 2-0 in a while!” Hinata exclaims, coming out of the locker first. The others follow. 

“Right?!” Bokuto adds on. “That was pretty awesome! I went full out! Atsumu’s tosses were really good too.” 

“My tosses are always that good! This just proves you all don’t go hard enough on other days!” Atsumu accuses. 

“Shut up, Tsum-tsum!”

“Oh! Hiya!!” Hinata greets you all.

“Everyone was amazing tonight!” you compliment.

Bokuto brushes a hand through his hair, “Let’s go, I’m starving!”

Hinata jumps over, “me too! What are we having? Meat? How about meat?” 

“Oh is Hinata coming too?” you ask. Well, more the merrier.

“Hinata!” Osamu calls out. “Come to my place, I have a lot of meat in the fridge. I need your help finishing it. And didn’t you want to learn how to make those rice balls? I’ll show you.” 

Hinata perks up, “OKAY!”

Atsumu leans over to Osamu, “I thought you wanted me over to help you finish. Why invite Shoyo?” 

You barely catch Osamu stomping on Atsumu’s foot. You see Sakusa leaning off to the side. He eyes them, eyes you, then gives a peculiarly slow greeting nod before turning and walking away. 

“Omi, you coming with us?” Hinata asks Sakusa. 

Sakusa waves his hand without turning back, “nah, I’m going home to wash up and sleep. You all go have fun.” 

Osamu pulls Atsumu and Hinata up. “Okay, let’s get going then!” 

“Ah, wait, I forgot my stuff in the locker!” Hinata cries, rushing back to the locker room. 

“We’ll head out first then,” you tell Osamu and Atsumu. “Talk to you all later! Great game tonight Atsumu!” 

You make sure you have your scarf secured tightly around your neck and ears before exiting the building. The sky is entirely dark now. The streetlamps make it impossible to see if there are stars. You shiver for a second at the initial chill, still not used to the temperature outside. 

“Want a heat pack?” Bokuto offers, noticing your posture, already reaching for his bag. 

“It’s okay,” you turn down quickly. “I’ll be okay after walking for a bit.” 

Moments of earlier today flash through your mind and you feel your face getting a bit warm. You can’t help but feel hyperconscious of how you’re breathing, walking, maybe even existing. You’re not sure if you’re feeling nervous or cold.

“So, where did the jersey go?” Ah, of course, he would bring this up. 

“Sorry Bokuto, I gave it away to another fan.” you apologize, hoping he would understand. Bokuto cocks his head to the side, confused. You continue, “I gave it away to the future! A young volleyball player! She said she was in your group at some training event last year. ‘Osaka Youth Volleyball’ sweater?” 

Bokuto’s eyes grow wider with realization. “OH! It’s that school charity event I mentioned to you over the phone. Awww, one of them was here? A girl? Oh, that must be Emi!” 

You nod quickly, “yes! Emi is her name!” 

“She’s great! I hope she continues to play.” Bokuto gets excited about talking about his time teaching the kids’ class. You listen to Bokuto eagerly share more details. You don’t recognize at what point it happened, but it soon occurs to you that you really aren’t that cold anymore. It’s fairly comfortable and even though the tip of your nose is still icy cold, you’re genuinely okay. Asashiobashi Station is just a couple of minutes' walk away. Some of the spectators who have lingered at the stadium are still around. They don’t notice Bokuto, though, he has a beanie on covering his hair. The subway isn’t crowded around this area, so you and Bokuto find a spot to sit down. 

“Where are we headed?” you ask, still no clue as to where Bokuto is planning on bringing you. 

“Awaza Station, transfer to the pink line. You'll see.” 

Your eyes go to the map on the side, trying to figure out where that is. In three more stops. Awaza Station is clearly more crowded. It’ll get more and more crowded the closer you get towards the heart of the city and any tourist locations. You and Bokuto stand by the door this time. More passengers continue to pour into the train. Two stops later, everyone on the subway train begins to stand up and wait for the upcoming stop. Namba Station. A monster of a station. Bokuto nudges you slightly. 

“This is our stop too.” 

You nod and prepare for the subway to come to the stop. The moment the subway doors open, you are met with a mass of people walking around and chattering. Namba Station is huge. Huge doesn’t even begin to cover it. Resting at the heart of Osaka, Namba Station is a collection of six different Namba Stations, all somehow interconnected alongside a whole array of underground malls. The multiple floors are dizzying. People transferring subway lines, rushing to the airport, trains, and shopping. It’s almost like a mini Shibuya crossing contained in a single building and stretched across multiple floors. The time you entered the station alone, it took you more than fifteen minutes trying to figure out which line you should be taking and where the line is located in this monstrous 3d maze. But luckily this time, not only do you have a personal guide, but you are also only exiting the station--arguably an easier task. 

“Are we almost there?” you ask Bokuto, who’s continuing leading the way. It must have been about a seven-minute walk so far.

“Almost, you’ll know where we are when we get there,” Bokuto tells you, still not giving it away. “But if you pay attention to the tourist signs, you’d probably know.” 

Oh is it a tourist location? Obviously, considering the large crowds currently around both of you. Many of them are travelers from all over the world. You catch a sign. Dotonbori. True enough, your face and eyes are soon illuminated by a wide expanse of neon lights and billboards. The Glico running man billboard cannot possibly be missed.

Neon lights and billboards aren’t anything new to you. There are so many in Tokyo. But Osaka’s is still so alluring, nonetheless. And a completely fresh experience for you. The Dotonbori river runs through the middle, gently. Sightseeing boats sway along the water. Shops and billboards line both sides, pedestrians stroll about marveling at the lights. Crowds gather on the bridge, capturing photos of the iconic scene. The air is filled with excited chatter in many different languages and the sizzle of food. The sound is so good you can almost taste it on the tip of your tongue. Music blasts from shops adding a final topping. It’s an orchestra of sensations. You’re completely mesmerized. It’s dazzling.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Bokuto asks next to you.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, still in awe. “Beautiful.”

“Ha! Proves you’re still a tourist!” he bursts out laughing. “When you’re meh about this, you’ll be truly Osakan.” 

You flush at being caught off-guard. He totally baited you on that. How sneaky. 

“Nothing wrong with it, I thought the same when I first came here!” he adds on quickly. “Come on, got to take a commemorative photo.” Bokuto takes his phone out and points to the edge of the bridge where a bunch of other tourists are posing. “Go stand over there.” 

“Commemorative is such a formal word! It’s just a tourist photo,” you point out. “You’re making this sound like the first day of school or something.” 

Bokuto laughs heartily. “See, I know some big words too! It’s true though. This marks your beginning in Osaka!”

You go to where Bokuto has you stand, huffing. “I’ve been here for way more than a week now, thank you very much.” 

“Uh huh, and I’ve been here for how many years?” he taps his chin quizzically. “I lost count.” 

Bokuto sees you deadpan staring at him and laughs again. “You have the best expressions, you know that? Alright, smile!!” He squats down to get your best angle. 

You roll your eyes and smile into the camera, waiting. 

“No, no!” Bokuto lowers his phone and instructs, “you got to pose like this!” Bokuto extends both his arms up in a giant victory “V” and lifts his left knee like the running Glico man. It looks ridiculous. 

“Nooo, I’m not doing that,” you shake your head, laughing. “That’s embarrassing!” 

“It’s iconic!” Bokuto insists. “Everyone else does that here!”

You roll your eyes again, shoving the embarrassment down. Others around you are also mimicking the sign, that much is true. Bokuto holds his phone up again expectantly. Doesn’t hurt, you suppose. And lift your arms and leg up, a smile of embarrassment finding itself on your face. 

“That’s it!” Bokuto clicks away at his phone multiple times. There’s no ‘proper’ way of having to behave. You’re not some office worker. Bokuto’s not some professional athlete. It’s just two people having fun. 

“Oh my gosh, how many did you take!” you accuse, dropping your limbs.

“Just one, just one! One more, let’s just take one more, together.” he holds up a single-digit to emphasize ‘one’. “The last time we took a photo together was all the way last year.” 

“Okay, let’s just take a selfie then.” 

“No, I want the whole scene.” Bokuto finds a tourist next to him and asks them to help out with a photo. The tourist nods and takes the phone, getting ready to compose the shot. You stand next to Bokuto and smile at the camera. The tourist looks up and gestures with their hand, ‘closer’. You take half a step closer to Bokuto, who has his arms up and is sporting a huge cheesy smile. That expression hasn’t changed since high school. 

Click! 

“Let me see the photo, Bokuto!” you ask, looking at the pocket Bokuto tucked his phone into. 

“Later!” he says. “I’ll send it to you! Let’s go eat first, I’m starving!!” 

The two of you squeeze through the crowd. It feels like everyone else is adamant about going the exact opposite of where you want to go. They are, because they are all trying to get onto the bridge to take photos of the Glico sign. And you are trying to get off the bridge. A shove and a push later, you soon lose Bokuto in the mess. You shouldn’t since Bokuto is much taller than the average Japanese person, but the scene is too chaotic. You strain your neck hoping to catch a glimpse of Bokuto until you feel someone tapping your shoulder. Bokuto is right next to you. 

“Looking for something?”

You let out a breath you were unconsciously holding in. “Oh, thought I lost you for a moment.” 

Bokuto laughs. “I was next to you this entire time!” 

Was he? Has he been next to you this whole time? You don’t want to lose him in the crowd again. You reach out and hold onto the edge of his sleeve. Bokuto continues to lead you through the sea of people. He’s a big guy and easily carves out a path in between the crowd, like a ship helm parting the sea. You just need to tag along.

“Are we eating somewhere along the river?” you ask, looking at a large number of storefronts with fantastical signs and huge crowds. 

“Nah, this way,” Bokuto pulls you towards a street off the main road. “We Osakans go eat here.”

The alleyway is marked by a paved stone path. The ridges and edges of the stone look rustic and straight from the set of an old movie. The average person walking by may not notice the presence of the two large red lanterns and sign over the arch, marking the entranceway to this alley. Hōzenji Yokocho. 

The road narrows and a couple of swaying lanterns light the path. The glow reflects off the uneven stone and adds to the sensation of nostalgia. It’s almost like Bokuto is leading you into a whole other dimension. Spirited away to a hundred years ago. It still surprises you how tranquil this corner is when the bustling street is just a few footsteps away. Bokuto brings you to a humble storefront. The traditional wooden door frame and windows must be incredibly old. Bokuto slides open the door. Behind the closed doors is actually a lively restaurant full of excitement. The heat from tabletop grills warms the space. 

“Welcome in!” the waiter greets the two of you. “Please have a seat here, I’ll be with you shortly!” 

Food is fuel for the soul. And no wonder Osaka is the food mecca. 

“Meian brought us here before,” Bokuto explains. “It’s not very showy outside, so it’s missed by the tourists. Food here is really good though. Should try their okonomiyaki, it’s their specialty.” 

When in Osaka, one must definitely have okonomiyaki. The Osaka-style okonomiyaki is one of the representative dishes of the city. It’s quite unlike its competing Hiroshima-style twin which boasts a lot more careful layering of the ingredients, and also the addition of soba noodles and a fried egg. Okonomiyaki here has all the ingredients mixed in with the batter to make a messy, glorious pancake. It’s almost like the personality of the people here: boisterous, lively and unbothered with what is or isn’t proper. It’s all goodness, why layer? Just dump it all in together! 

The waiter comes by with a bowl of the batter you ordered and hands you two spatulas. They tell Bokuto that his order will come in a little while since some of the ingredients still need preparation.

“I’ll be making this one first then,” you say as you mix the shredded cabbage and batter, then pour it onto the grill in front of you. The mixture sizzles immediately upon contact with the hot metal and oil. “Ooh, this will be good!”

You scrape the bowl with the spatula to get every last bit of batter. After a moment, you take the two spatulas and carefully flip the okonomiyaki, successfully. 

Bokuto leans over to inspect your half-finished product. “Not bad! But your timing is still off. Trust me, mine’s going to be really good. I’ve trained under Meian for this.”

The waiter brings Bokuto’s order. 

“We’ll see,” you shrug. 

Your okonomiyaki is pretty much done already when Bokuto is still busy getting ready to cook his. You spread on a generous layer of okonomiyaki sauce, topped with seaweed flakes, then another layer of sauce, and finally, a scary amount of Japanese mayo squeezed in large zig-zags. Bokuto hands you a toothpick. You happily take it from him and draw designs into the mix of sauces. Divine. You’re embarrassed to admit, but you’re ridiculously proud of how well it turned out. You see Bokuto pointing his phone camera at you again. “Smile!” 

With a grin, you lift the okonomiyaki slightly with the spatulas for the camera. Bokuto’s is still going to take a while before it is done. You break a piece with your spatula and take a bite. It’s too hot. You try to breathe out through your mouth hoping it’ll cool it off a bit. The tangy flavors of the sauce melt in your mouth and the edges are already crispy and savory. “Ah, this is so good!” 

“I’m hungry!” Bokuto complains off to the side, staring at his okonomiyaki still cooking. 

“Here,” you take your chopsticks and hold a piece out to him. Bokuto tucks a hand under the chopstick to catch anything that falls and takes a bite. You watch him chew for an unnecessarily long amount of time and nod knowingly to himself.

“Well?” you ask impatiently. 

“Pretty good!” he finally says. “For a newbie.” 

You kick his foot under the table and he starts to laugh. You go back to trying your creation again. It’s pretty good, right?

“Here try this one.” Bokuto holds a piece of his okonomiyaki to you. You take a bite. Oh, it’s good. Even crispier than the one you made, but you won’t tell him that. It’ll all go to his head. 

“Hm,” you nod. “Not bad.” 

“Not bad?!”

Dinner ends with more chatter and good food. You’re stuffed already, just watching Bokuto make another portion to fill his athlete's appetite. When the two of you exit the shop, you find yourself back in the midst of the quiet alleyway again. Belly full and heart happy. Dinner is over now, is it time to go back home already? There are lots of things waiting for your attention back home. The reality of life will set in and everything here will be gone. It’s just a brief escape, that’s all.

“Hey, let’s go to the Hōzenji Temple. It’s right along this street,” Bokuto suggests. “Make a wish or something.”

“Sure!” you rub your belly. It's not quite time to go, just yet. “Man, dinner was so good.”

The two of you stroll slowly down the stone path. The cool, fresh air is a nice change from the hot, stuffy restaurant. For the last few hours, you completely forgot about responsibilities or time. After tonight, you’ll be back to your 9 to 5, and Bokuto will be back going around to matches. Once you start considering reality, the thoughts don't escape anymore.

“Where are you guys headed off to next?” you ask, breaking the pleasant silence. 

“Oita.” 

“Oita? That’s pretty far.” The city is on Kyushu island. “When are you guys leaving?” 

“Day after tomorrow, we’ll be there for a while. Then fly straight to Matsumoto.” 

Fly straight? That means no stopping in Osaka. When will they be back in Osaka?

“We’ll be back for your housewarming,” Bokuto answers your thoughts. 

“That’s right,” you sigh. “I’m going to be so busy the next few weeks too.” 

“And we’re here,” Bokuto points out 

Hōzenji Temple is an intimate temple tucked inside this quaint maze of alleyways. The warm, gentle glow from the hanging lanterns cast a spell over this sacred space. Rows upon rows of lanterns form a mesmerizing landscape. There are very few people visiting at this hour. The shrine houses a moss-covered statue of Fudo Myoo, one of the five guardians of Buddhism. Two smaller moss-covered statues flank the two sides of the main statue. Moss-covered, because the locals have affectionately thrown water onto the deities when making wishes. How many people have stood in the same spot as you right now? The local owners come to pray for their business. The young chef comes here to pray for a good apprenticeship. Hearts filled with desires and wants. Does this even work? The legends say they do. No one wants to risk it by not following the rites.

You and Bokuto wait behind a family paying their respects. When it’s your turn, you go up and look at the statue. The features of this deity are completely covered by the moss. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say the statue now smiles instead. It goes to show how many times people have watered the statue with their thoughts. You press your palms together and with sincerity, you pray. Bokuto also joins you on the side for his prayers.

_Dear Kami-sama,_

_I pray for the good health of all those in my life. My parents, my friends in Tokyo, my co-workers, Bokuto, his teammates and everyone’s families. It’s a long list of people, isn’t it? Sorry about that. The past few months, I think I’ve been truly blessed because of these people. I haven’t done anything of significance, but I feel so lucky to be in the company of good friends and be comfortable with where I am present. I don’t think I’ll be planning my next steps meticulously anymore...I’ll see where things go naturally. Take a leap of faith...that’s why I’m here in Osaka! I’m still curious about what’s next for me in life. But can you watch out for me anyway? Just so things don’t go derailing all too much._

_Can you hear my wishes?_

_Oh also, I pray that Bokuto and his teammates will have a successful season!_

_With all my sincerity, thank you so much!_

You then take the ladle, scoop some water, and splash the contents onto the statue, mentally giving another thanks. Bokuto takes the ladle from you and you watch him perform the same rites you just did. He also showers both smaller statues with water, which you didn’t do.

“Oh, what are the smaller statues for?” you ask Bokuto. 

“I don’t know, maybe if I give them all some more water, my wish can come true.” he shrugs. Fair answer, maybe you should have done that too. That was a huge name list you gave.

“It’s for matchmaking!” an old woman waiting in line calls out. A few of the people in line chuckle to themselves.

Bokuto immediately drops the ladle back into the bucket. When you turn back to look at him, you see his face comparably red as the lanterns.

“M-matchmaking? Oh, I didn’t know that!” he stutters, while scooting away from the shrine. He glances at you momentarily, “Uh..I didn’t!” 

“Pfft,” you bite your lip to keep the laugh escaping. It’s futile, a loud laugh practically rips through your chest and throat. “Hahahaha!” 

“D-don’t laugh!!!” Bokuto whines off the side. 

You clutch your midsection and try to stop yourself from laughing at the embarrassed owl. But again, it’s futile. The more Bokuto begs you to stop, the more you’re unable to. It’s cruel really. Bokuto pulls the hood of his parka over his head and makes a beeline for the shrine exit. 

You fast walk after him to keep up with his large strides. “Bokuto! Wait up! Okay, okay I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have laughed.” 

You catch up and tug on his parka. He’s still pouting and staring holes into the floor. 

“I was praying for success in my next matches,” he insists, enunciating every syllable clearly. You believe him, it’s a reasonable wish to pray for. And even more reasonable for Bokuto to want to go the extra mile and water every single statue in the shrine. 

“Okay, sorry for laughing, alright. It doesn’t matter what you wish for,” you tug on his parka jacket again. “I’m sure it’ll come true.” 

Bokuto looks at you with wide eyes, “you think so?” 

You nod firmly, “well you already dumped half a bucket. I’m sure the gods have heard you.” 

Bokuto hmphs and looks away, “you’re still laughing at me aren’t you.” 

“Payback for laughing at me earlier,” you snicker lightly. “Let’s go.” 

A moment later, Bokuto pops a question. “So, what did you wish for?” 

“Not telling.” 

“Ah come on, why not?” 

“Would you tell me yours?” 

“...I already did! I want to win ALL my volleyball games! And the world cup!” 

You pause for a moment, “I wished for everyone’s good health.” 

“WHAT? That’s exactly what a grandma would do!” Bokuto points out. 

You purse your lips and nod, “probably what that grandma back there was wishing for. You know her thoughts very well.” 

“ARGH! STOPP!” Bokuto holds his head, embarrassed all over again. “I’m not talking to you anymore.”

You roll your eyes. For real? He’s not going to talk? For real. Bokuto pouts and stomps forward. Momentarily, you feel like you’re facing the high-school Bokuto again. Sometimes it gets annoying, but when it happens every now and then, it can be kind of adorable sometimes. Adorable. 

“Where are we going?” Bokuto asks, still pressing forward

“Are we going back then?” you ask. 

Bokuto glances at you over his shoulder and waits for a step for you to walk next to him. 

“I can’t think of anything else. Did you want to walk alongside the river? We just took a photo and left.” Bokuto asks. 

Your yawn gives the perfect answer. “Maybe next time.” 

“When’s next time?” 

“I don’t know. You’re going away again for matches soon right? Probably with my coworkers,” you shrug.

“But only Dotonbori!” 

“Huh?” you ask, confused. 

“I want to show you Osaka!” he blurts out. “There are so many places I want to show you. I’m just going away for games...but there are still weekends or days I’m back. Um, there’s Osaka Castle, there’s a bunch of other temples, museums, there are rakugo and kabuki shows to watch, the aquarium! Oh there is a ferris wheel too and an amusement park, more food places, oh and I also told you I’ll show you around Mino Park!” 

“You’re busy though Bokuto, I can go to those places on my own time or with other people.” 

Bokuto shakes his head, “but I really want to show them to you! I read up a lot on them all, I’m super, super knowledgeable.” 

He looks so dead-set so you nod. “Alright, it’s not like those places or I are going away anytime soon. We can go whenever both of us are free. Maybe during your off-season.” 

Bokuto looks a bit relieved. “Fine, you can maybe go to the others. But at least Mino Park, you have to let me take you there.” 

“Why Mino Park?” 

“It’s my favorite place,” Bokuto answers simply. “I already told you I would, remember? And I know you’ll love it there.”

“Okay.” 

The walk back to Namba Station seems to take an unnaturally long time. It’s as if the streets are purposely setting themselves up as a maze to prevent the two of you from leaving. You’re not sure if you really want to leave either, but sleepiness is already fighting its way to your eyelids. 

“Do you like it here in Osaka?” you hear Bokuto murmur next to you. 

“Yea?” you reply, unsure. “I mean, I haven’t really been here long enough. But I have friends here and a good job.” 

“So...what are your plans?”

“Um, well tomorrow I have a meeting in the morning, so I’ll have to get up early.” you think through your to-do for next week. “Actually, I think it’s just back to back meetings tomorrow. I need to visit the bank again, there were some transaction issues...what else...” 

“Oh, I meant as in, life plans. Long term.” Bokuto clarifies. “You like to plan stuff right?” 

“OH,” you realize what he’s asking. “Yea, I did plan everything, but I’m trying to not do that as much anymore. It causes more problems than necessary. I think I like my current job, will probably continue and maybe rise the ranks a bit, hopefully? Also maybe meet more people, make friends...just normal people stuff I guess. Maybe one day I’ll retire like any other person and just call it a life.”

Bokuto doesn’t answer you. Was there something wrong with your answer? 

“What about you Bokuto? What are your plans?” 

“Yea, I guess I didn’t plan anything either! Haha. Well, I do want to finish this season well... the world cup is at the end of this year you know. So, I can’t slack off during the off-season. The starting lineup for the national team isn’t decided yet. I guess I really don’t have anything beyond volleyball!”

Those are good, admirable plans. “I’m sure you’ll be in the starting lineup though. It’s amazing enough that you’re on the national team!” 

Bokuto scratches the back of his head nervously. “I don’t know. Maybe. Um, actually, I only got in about two years ago...most people from my year have been in the team for at least three or so now. People like Ushiwaka, he’s always in the starting lineup, Kiryu too...Sakusa is a year younger but he joined before I did too. And, also Kageyama from Hinata’s team joined really early too, and he’s always been in the starting lineup as well. And-” 

“Bokuto,” you grip his parka and cut into his ramble. You hold onto tightly and firmly say your next words. “You’ll do great. Trust me. From one ace to another right?” 

Bokuto blinks at you and softens his expressions. “Yea, don’t worry about me.” 

You smile and let go, walking slowly next to him again. Almost as if the streets finally relent, Namba Station finally shows itself in the distance. It’s still just as crowded as before and again to your luck, you and Bokuto are taking the same line back home. The subway isn’t very crowded, though, so you’re able to find a seat and rest your feet. The ride back is quicker than expected. The events of the night are almost like a distant dream already, far away in memory. You and Bokuto chat about high school friends again. Akaashi and the rest of the Fukurodani bunch. The two of you agree to watch Komi’s drama together when it comes out. But at some point, the two of you run out of things to say and the rest of the subway ride falls quiet. The two of you each on your phones, scrolling and typing away. It’s about two stops away from where you’ll be getting off.

“Hey,” Bokuto points out. “You don’t call me Koutarou anymore.

You wrangle your mind. Koutarou is Bokuto’s first name. That’s right. Now that he mentions it, you used to call him that in high-school. Not always, sometimes, mixed in here and there. Usually only when it’s the two of you. 

“I guess in high school,” you begin. “But then we haven’t seen each other in ages, so-” 

“But now we have right? And things haven’t changed...all that much.” Bokuto adds quickly. “Well, maybe I haven’t.” 

You give him an incredulous look. “You haven’t changed? Come on, you used to get dejected during games and stuff. You don’t do that now. And you’ve grown taller too, did you know that?” 

“If you say so,” Bokuto kicks his feet and readjusts. “But I was going to say that you, we, we’re close friends, right? Even now?” 

The subway passes a stop. The doors opening and closing bring a chilly breeze in. Close friends with Bokuto? You would easily say “for sure” in high school. Can you two still be considered as such? It’s been months since reconnecting with him and you two did talk fairly frequently. It’s fun chatting with him. He seems to enjoy your company too. Maybe time apart didn’t actually split this friendship as much as you think. Osamu mentioned that you were technically part of Bokuto’s inner circle, different from just acquaintances or the average fan. That much is true too. 

“Well,” you stand up. “My stop is coming up, I’ll be going then.” 

“You okay going back alone?” Bokuto asks. 

“Yea, don’t worry about me.” The subway begins to pull into the station. 

“Alright, text me when you get home.” 

“I will. Tonight was fun,” you tell him while waiting for the doors to open. Is it okay to call him as such again? Yes. “Good night Koutarou.” 

Bokuto’s face brightens into a huge smile and flashes you a thumbs up. “I had fun too!” 

You step onto the platform and turn to give him a small wave through the window. Bokuto waves back. A second later, the subway zips into the tunnel once more. The walk to your apartment is fairly quick. You pick up the pace in your steps to get home as fast as possible. The late-night chill is seeping into your clothes and attaching itself to your knees. The neighborhood is well-built and already familiar to you. Each bend and turn, predictable and ordinary. It’s impossible to really get lost here and if you did, it would be a boring experience instead. But you really had fun tonight. So much that you forgot everything else and truly lived in the moment. You think back to the temple. Maybe there is something out there watching and granting wishes after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> •For references of the stations & subway lines, [here is an Osaka subway map](https://subway.osakametro.co.jp/img/osakametro_rosenzu_20200525.pdf). Our stations are on the left side. Asashiobashi on Green. Awaza transferring to Pink and getting off at Namba.  
> •Namba Station is made up of 6 other stations. [Here is a guide to the crazy](https://livejapan.com/en/in-kansai/in-pref-osaka/in-nanba_dotonbori_shinsaibashi/article-a2000323/).  
> •[Dotonbori](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D%C5%8Dtonbori) is a famous tourist location in Osaka for its view and food. [This link](https://www.osakastation.com/dotonbori-area-the-bright-heart-of-osaka/) has some great photos from Ebisu bridge (where they were standing).  
> •[Here is the google map location](https://www.google.com/maps/place/Dotonbori/@34.6684498,135.4996663,17z/data=!4m5!3m4!1s0x6000e713818af9fd:0xb8bb1326b48ba590!8m2!3d34.6687234!4d135.5012971), I recommend 360 street view~  
> •[Okonomiyaki ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Okonomiyaki)is a popular savory pancake. There are lots of variations to it, but the common two pitted against each other are Osaka and Hiroshima styles.  
> •[Hōzenji Temple](https://travel.gaijinpot.com/hozen-ji-yokocho-and-temple/) was built around the 1600s and the shrine actually survived WWII bombings, so it’s seen as an extra sign of good luck.  
> •[An article on the alleyway with some beautiful photos](https://www.osakastation.com/hozenji-temple-hozenji-yokocho/).  
> •[Osaka Castle](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Osaka_Castle) is another huge, important landmark of Osaka.  
> •[Rakugo](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rakugo) is a form of Japanese storytelling. [This manga/anime series is all about it, and I really enjoyed it](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Descending_Stories:_Showa_Genroku_Rakugo_Shinju).  
> •[Kabuki ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kabuki) is a form of traditional drama performing arts. The masks and makeup are the most notable features. Both Rakugo and Kabuki, alongside other performing arts were widely popular in the neighborhood our characters visited.  
> •Mino Park is mentioned in Ch 10’s video call.


	20. Constant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are many thoughts circulating in the brain of an owl before his match in Oita.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the multiple Bokuto POVs. Not trying to spill all the cards just yet~

There are many things to be packed into an athlete’s luggage. Some athletes like to pack things days in advance, others like to shove everything in a sack an hour before departure. Bokuto is of the more normal kind, opting to lay his stuff out on the bed and go through a mental check-list a couple of times to make sure nothing is left behind. He’s still multitasking. While he goes about his room getting his stuff, his phone is on speaker with his mother. 

_Toiletries, check. First aid kit, check. Painkillers, check. Salonpas, check. Athletic tape, check._

“Going away again Koutarou? There are so many matches...” 

“Yup, mom.” 

_Clothes, check. Jerseys, check. Shoes, check._

“Okay, make sure you pack your underwear! And extra socks! Also, don’t forget any of the important documents, alright?” 

_Extra socks, check. More extra socks, double check._

“I’m 24, stop worrying.” 

_Tickets, identification, wallet, chargers, check, check, check, and check._

“Your sisters are much older than that and I still worry. Hey, once a baby, always my baby.” 

Bokuto laughs, “we’re always your babies, momma.” 

“Don’t stay up too late tonight. Set an alarm!” 

“Won’t, got it!” 

The gym bag and carry-on are all packed now. The first time packing was a scramble. The second time, a bit better than the first. Now he’s a seasoned athlete, not some newbie calling up his manager or captain for help. There’s still something left that needs to be done. 

Bokuto knocks on a steel door and waits for the light footsteps to approach. Granny, living next door, opens the door slightly. 

“Granny! Hope you’re doing well!” 

“Koutarou, come in! Come in,” Granny opens the door wider. “It’s chilly out there, don’t catch a cold.” 

Bokuto steps in and closes the door behind him. 

“What’s with all the bags?” 

Bokuto takes his shoes off and brings the bags over to the kitchen. “I brought the groceries in my fridge. I’m going away tomorrow.” 

Granny pours another cup of tea and brings some sliced fruit to the table. “You treat me too well Koutarou. I know you always buy too much. Where are you off to this time?” 

Bokuto takes a seat next to Granny and sips on the tea. “Oita, then Matsumoto.” 

“Oh, what a journey that’ll be! Make sure you keep warm!” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself.” 

Granny always dotes on him. She treats him like her own grandson. In this large city, she’s someone he wouldn’t hesitate to consider family in a heartbeat. She found him panicking over which groceries to buy and unsure how to not burn down the kitchen. He found her living alone after her partner’s passing. She showed him how to nourish the body with food. He showed her that despite her old age and more goodbyes than hellos, someone cared. And for all of that, and more, they are both each other’s family.

“Where’s your friend? How’s she doing?” Granny is still knitting. She’s constantly knitting. Alone or with friends she has found. She says it gives her purpose and makes her feel young. Mittens, scarves, vests, and more. The beanie he always wears comes from her talented, wrinkly hands. 

“She’s doing alright. I think she’s pretty busy these days too.” Bokuto remembers you mentioning having meetings back-to-back.

“Should bring her over for tea sometime, I love company. Young people are always too busy.” 

“I visit you whenever I can! You make the best food!” 

Granny smiles and offers another piece of sliced apple. “You make me so happy, Koutarou.” 

The next day, before the morning alarm sounds, Bokuto is already up and about. He’s always filled with a flurry of excitement and anxiety before going to a match. It’s some sort of a bad habit left from childhood, perhaps. He would never be able to sleep deeply the night before going on vacation or some big activity. He’ll have to catch up on sleep on the plane. The day is like any other day: a quick breakfast, do the dishes, grab the bags, lock the door. This time, this ritual takes a pause at breakfast because of a text.

“Safe travels.” 

Just two words from you. Something you sent without a second thought before diving headfirst into the mountain of work waiting for you. But it’s two words enough to send Bokuto’s routine into disarray. He scrutinizes it, studies it, and scratches his head over the ordinary text. He scrolls the chat feed and sees the photos he sent over a few days ago. The ones from Dotonbori. He didn’t think the night was going to be that fun. Hell, he didn’t even ask about having dinner, it was your suggestion in the end. Even if he did have that idea already.

Bokuto glances at the time and widens his eyes. Crap, he’s going to be late. By the time he squeezes himself onto the subway, he’s left wondering if he locked his door. He’ll have to get Granny to check for him. She has the keys. Once on the subway, there’s nothing much he can do about trying to get to the airport any faster. Bokuto goes back to looking at the photo that threw his sense of time into a whirl. You look so happy in the photos. The Glico running man also looks cheerful in the back. It was a good idea to take them, he can almost stare at them all day long. He thinks that the you in that photo looks exactly like he remembers you to be in high school. You look different, for sure, but the expression is definitely you. The two of you, despite all the time together, don’t have many photos actually. The Fukurodani team often takes a lot of photos together because Konoha loves selfies. Yukie and Kaori would take plenty too. Most photos of you and Bokuto were taken by them when you would swing by for practice. Bokuto used to think that he didn’t really need any of that stuff. Why? When he’ll see you the next day in school? When you’ll be chatting with him in person? He later learns that it isn’t a question of if people will go their separate paths, it’s a question of when. That applies to everyone, even you. 

\----

“Okay, where are you stuck?” You pause mid-explanation after seeing Bokuto’s I-have-no-idea-what’s-going-on face. 

“Um. Everything.” Bokuto bites the inside of his lips. You must be irritated. He’s not the brightest bulb, he knows that. You’ll roll your eyes and leave. Like everyone else. The first month is just courtesy. Second month just luck. Now into the third month, Bokuto is sure your patience is out. 

“That’s alright,” you say without hesitation. “Next time just tell me the moment I’m losing you.” 

“Sorry,” Bokuto mumbles, looking down at the dizzying number of formulas. 

“It’s okay, we went over a lot of stuff already. You’re doing great!” You shut the book Bokuto is staring at. “Let’s have a break and get some fresh air! We can get back to this problem later.” 

“Really?” Bokuto asks, astonished. It’s the first time you’re proposing this without him begging or dragging you out. 

You nod, “yea, I even have athletic wear on. See? Running shoes. I’m prepared.” 

Bokuto looks down at your feet and confirms your footwear. He’s been itching for a run all day already. The formulas are going through one ear and out the other. At some point, everything is sounding like mosquito buzzes. 

“Hey! Hey! Hey! You bet!” 

Bokuto leads you through some warm-up stretches before the jog. You look down the road and towards the hill that’s already looming in sight. Bokuto is completely unfazed. He loves a good run, but a lot of thoughts cloud his mind. Maybe you’ll be different from others, or maybe you’ll be just like them too. They are in a sports club and you aren’t. What makes him think you’ll be able to keep up? Something tells him this will be different though. Still, he doesn’t want to risk it. Run slower, Bokuto tells himself. Don’t go sprinting away. 

The two of you take off. The hill is nothing more than a small step ladder to warm things up. Bokuto doesn’t notice that strain already eating into your calves. Your expression is relaxed, though. She’ll be fine, he thinks to himself. You don’t tell him to go slower or complain. Bokuto loses himself in his thoughts and continues down the same path at a constant pace. The stray pebble in the corner is still there. The weeds are gone. It’s so familiar to him already. He does this all the time. In the mornings, before practice, after practice, or whenever he’s bored. As fast as he can run, as hard as he can go. It feels nice. 

Suddenly, it occurs to him that he hasn’t looked behind him in a while. It’s always during this moment. He’s nervous about turning back, but he does so anyway. Surely enough, it’s the same empty road. Not a single person in sight. Just like every single time. Bokuto sighs and kicks the pebble into the flower bed. He’s an idiot. A real big idiot. You’re not even an athlete, what was he thinking? And him too, why in the world did he just take off like some other conditioning exercise? Whatever, you’re probably already back at the library, or maybe even home. Normally, he would just keep on running. It doesn’t matter anymore, not after the nth time. Still, he has hope. And he’s right to do so.

Moments later, he hears the sound of shoes on cement. The breathing sounds heavy and a little raspy, but it doesn’t stop. Ordinary and constant. 

“Wow, you run really fast Bokuto!” you wheeze out. 

Bokuto freezes. You’re here. 

“What’s with that look?” you ask him quizzically. Sweat clings to your forehead. Your face looks half-drained. He knows you would never work this hard in gym class. You look absolutely terrible. Truly awful.

“I’m sorry!” Bokuto presses his hands together in apology. He’s never putting you through that ever again. On purpose or on accident.

“What are you sorry for? Gah!”

Bokuto rushes to the nearest vending machine and gets a drink for you. Thank goodness he has some spare coins in the pocket. He hands the cold energy drink over to you, which you gleefully accept. 

“You look like you just got warmed up, Bokuto! That’s some crazy stamina you have there.” You point out, taking a generous gulp. Bokuto prays that you’ll feel a bit better.

“One day, Bokuto,” you start in between deep breaths. “You’ll meet someone who’ll definitely keep up with you no problem. An athlete and partner who’ll be by your side for sure.” 

You take a final gulp and smile brightly at him. Your skin is glistening.

Bokuto nods, but only he knows that it isn’t because he agrees with you regarding how he’ll meet someone one day. He doesn’t need to wait for one day if that day is today. You just proved it to him at the cost of your own comfort. What in the world goes on in that brain of yours? It’s a bit too smart and complicated for him to understand, and that’s fine. The only important thing Bokuto realizes for himself is that high-school will be different from middle-school because you will definitely be someone who’s going to be there. Trustworthy and constant. He’s very lucky.

“You’re pretty good yourself.” 

You smile again. Your expression is great. “Really? This might be nice, let’s do it again sometime.” 

\---

In the end, you were entirely right. One day someone did come by. The next year, Bokuto found Akaashi, then the volleyball club became one big family after the seniors graduated. But then, graduation also eventually happened for you and Bokuto. 

“Bokuto!” Hinata waves at the check-in point. The rest of the team are already there. “Why are you so late!” 

Bokuto holds his hands up in surrender. “Haha, sorry everyone! I overslept!” 

“That’s a dumb excuse, did you set an alarm clock?!” Atsumu snaps. 

“Whatever,” Sakusa mumbles. “Can we hurry and go before there’s more people? I hate airports.” 

These are the new people in his journey. How long will they stay in his life? Who knows. But Bokuto plans on cherishing every moment with them. 

“Let’s take a selfie together!” 

Hinata’s always his best hype man. “Oooh great idea Bokuto!” 

“I’m not holding the phone,” Atsumu huffs. “My face will be too big.”

“I’ll take it,” Meian offers.

“Nooo, Captain you have to be in the photo. Coach too!” Hinata cries. 

“I’ll do it. My arms are the longest.” Barnes decides. 

“Hurry up, I’m getting squished,” Sakusa complains quietly. 

“To victory in Ōita!”

“And Matsumoto!” 

Some people leave, and they leave for good. Their names don’t need further reckoning. Some people he might just smile and nod with, like fans or acquaintances or the typical staff member. Those are all people Bokuto minds himself around. He has learned that there are certain acceptable and unacceptable things to do and be around this crowd. 

Then there are those who, he believes, comes into his life to guide him, like Coach Foster, Meian, or Granny. Those he can just have fun with, like Atsumu, Hinata, Sakusa, and many others. Those he’s not always in contact with, but he knows they’re always there, like his family, Akaashi, Kuroo, and his old Fukurodani teammates. These are all people he wants to keep close for as long as possible. As for you, your reappearance is nothing but a genuinely pleasant surprise. An especially good one. Something like an unknown variable ‘x’ constantly floating about in every problem he encounters but can’t exactly solve. Actually, the other constants might change, but ‘x’, despite whatever it really means, shows itself constantly as ‘x’. Disregarding ‘y’ and ‘z’ of course. What’s actually important is that you’re back now and you’ll be in Osaka for the time being, constantly. The workings of the world and your brain are a bit too much for him to fully wrap his mind around. Regardless, he can’t wait to tell you stories of his adventures and valiant conquests on the court. 

3-2-1

Jackals! ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> •This chapter was not brought to you by [constants](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constant_\(mathematics\)) (mathematics)  
> •[Ōita ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C5%8Cita_\(city\))is the capital city of Ōita Prefecture, located on island of Kyushu, Japan.  
> •[Japan has the highest proportion of elderly population in the world.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aging_of_Japan) Setting the fertility rate topic aside, there are concerns about the [economic stress](https://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2018/10/04/national/health-care-system-collapse-elderly-peoples-contributions-not-doubled-insurance-official/) and [social implications](https://www.bloomberg.com/news/features/2018-03-16/japan-s-prisons-are-a-haven-for-elderly-women?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=socialflow-organic&utm_content=businessweek&cmpid=socialflow-twitter-businessweek) of caring for the elderly population. Many have financial burdens and many more live alone, which may result in [social isolation](https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article/file?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0222887&type=printable). This [article](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.washingtonpost.com%2Fnews%2Fworld%2Fwp%2F2018%2F01%2F24%2Ffeature%2Fso-many-japanese-people-die-alone-theres-a-whole-industry-devoted-to-cleaning-up-after-them%2F&t=YTYzNzEzMWUzM2M3Mzk0YTM5OGQyMjk3ZTI3N2Y3YjYwYWY0ZjU4YyxmN2Q3NzFhMGMxYWYyYzgwZTYwMDhhZTllOWYyMGU4ZTg4NjQ3NGM1&ts=1605754296) discusses the cases where people living alone also passed away alone & the aftermath (may be upsetting to some readers). With increased awareness, there are [government and community programs](https://apolitical.co/en/solution_article/japan-is-fighting-back-against-loneliness-among-the-elderly) designed to [target elderly loneliness & social isolation](https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/spol.12650?af=R) now.  
> •Fyi, links are just a small selection and don’t show full story, it’s a complex topic. But at least in our story, Granny and Bokuto found each other ❤


	21. Dangerous Side-Effects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a particular side-effect from reading too many romance novels. When you mix mild sleep-deprivation with multitasking, your neural networks are conjuring up bizarre thoughts and connections.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I received an abundance of positive messages last chapter for Bokuto's POV. It was so exciting to see (hear) everyone's reactions! I can assure you there will be more of those coming along as we uncover him more and more ❤

Your fingers find their place around the keyboard as you furiously transpose your thoughts onto the screen. It is completely normal to come to work and find a brimming inbox. A hundred or so on a good day. Correspondances from writers, issues with drafts, spam, problems with the book contract, more spam, submissions...That’s all on a good day. Today is a not so good day. It’s not past 10 yet, but you’re basically ready to go home. There is an office-wide meeting starting and you pray you won’t just doze off. You can only hope that Bokuto is having a much better time. He told you the team is going to have an onsen, hot springs, getaway at Ōita. You’re ready to just block all his posts on travel and good food. It’s torturous. 

“Good work everyone!” the vice president announces at the morning meeting. “This year, we’re seeing a huge uptick in the romance novel sales. Classical shoujo tropes sell very well and the collaboration with the idol group for marketing is a hit. I think we’ll be seeing the sales going up past Valentine’s and well into spring. So, thank you to each department.” 

Everyone claps. You just follow through with the motion, but your mind is completely elsewhere. The pre-spring, pre-Valentine’s season is one you abhor the most. And thank goodness it’s all over for now. For other folks, Valentine’s is just a week’s ordeal of pink and red, ribbons and chocolate. For all the editors, it’s been a long warzone against romance literature extending from the year before. Classical romance, tooth-rotting fluff, dark erotica. New publications, republications, special edition covers, special sets with other gifts. The endless combinations born from the marriage of capitalism and art. By the time it’s actually Valentine’s season, everyone’s yearly recommended dose of romance is all spent. It’s the price of having to deal with these themes for months of preparation. Even Hana, who eats reverse-harems for breakfast, is relieved the publications are mostly out. The meeting is still ongoing and you can practically hear your inbox getting filled and exploding by the minute. On that note, you’re convinced V.League season is a much better season than “romance novel season”. At least Bokuto and the crew are off in places, like the hot springs in Ōita. You are reminded of this thought again. The hot springs, you would kill for right now.

Jun nudges you to get your attention back to the meeting. Your manager, Suzuki, is currently speaking. “This year, like the year before, our branch is going to have a hard ban on  _ giri-choco _ . We want everyone to be in an equitable and supportive environment without these obligations to give chocolates to their coworkers or supervisors. We’re proud to announce this measure will be happening company-wide now.” 

This definitely wakes you up. Ban on obligation chocolates? Are you hearing this correctly? Ugh, finally. There are a couple of murmurs in the crowd. Suzuki continues, “everyone has worked extremely hard this season, so to show our love for the employees here, the company has bought chocolates for everyone.” 

And so, this meeting concludes with the managers coming around giving each of the employees a bar of chocolate. When your manager gives you your share and compliments how well you are performing at this office, you feel like a child getting Halloween’s candy instead. You just want to go home and eat chocolate. Take a hot bath, that’s not nearly as nice as the hot springs. 

“This is essentially blackmail. A bribe,” Hana whispers, taking a huge bite of her chocolate. “You eat the company chocolate, feel bad, and work even harder.” 

You raise an eyebrow at Hana, her words, and her half-eaten chocolate. She catches your gaze and shrugs. “Can’t resist. But at least I can save a ton of chocolate money for myself instead. And oh look, I have a meeting to go to. Go have lunch without me later, by the way, I’m meeting with an author. Hang in there~” 

She gives a little wave and goes down the hallway. At least someone’s in a good mood. Jun walks by you and pats your shoulder. “Want to grab a coffee?” 

“Yes, please.” 

It’s just you and Jun in the break room. The coffee machine is happily whirring. 

“I’m so ready for this whole season to be over,” you complain. “I just can’t stand another cherry blossom confession or a five years' worth of misunderstandings. I’m so done with romance tropes.” 

“Cheer up, it is over. Everything’s out in print already. There’s just some marketing work and that’s mostly not our responsibility.” 

You pour some coffee into their mug and then your own. “Thank god.” 

“But aren’t you in the mood for love or something? Doesn’t the longing gazes and pinky promises make your heart flutter? Or maybe you prefer the tight ropes and sensuous experiments?” Jun keeps a straight face and continues sipping their coffee. 

You deadpan. “Are you jabbing at my singleness, one-with-a-partner?” 

“Is it working?” 

“I’m not Hana.” 

“Hm. Fair.”

When the break room small talks are the best pick-me-up of the morning, you know you’re fully conditioned as an office worker. As you sort through your email and attempt to organize the files on your desktop, you are forced to go through a mental reminder of each of the novels you had to help work on. It’s too much. You’ll save this mind-numbing clean-up job for back home. 

You manage to survive until lunchtime. Hana already told you she’s unavailable. And then Jun says they brought lunch instead because their partner made way too much last night. Oh, the joys of domestic partnership. You’ll have to have lunch alone. 

“Welcome in!” Osamu greets. “No Hana or Jun?” 

You shake your head and take a seat at the bar. “Nah, they’re busy. It’s just me today.” 

It’s already past the lunchtime rush hour so there aren’t many people crowding. Osamu is mostly cleaning up behind the counter. Your order is delicious, as always. 

Osamu comes over with an onigiri in hand. “Mind if I join?” 

“Not at all.” 

Osamu sits next to you at the bar and pours you a cup of tea. The flavors go so well together. Filling and fragrant. Osamu’s shop is always a space to get away and relax during the middle of the day. The atmosphere is clean and cozy. Others go to bars to chill, you would choose Onigiri Miya no question.

“Haven’t seen you since the last match. Been busy?”

“Very,” you sigh.

“So, how was dinner with Bokuto in the end?” 

Right, that night seems so far away already. The last few days feel like ages. “We went to Dotonbori, and had okonomiyaki someplace around there.” 

“Dotonbori!” Osamu repeats and nods, savoring the word. “Okay, okay, fun. That’s fun.” 

“The lights were beautiful.” 

“Mhm, and Bokuto?”

“Great company. He’s always fun to be around.” 

“I see! That’s excellent. The fledgling Osakan is now growing.”

“What’s with you and Bokuto reminding me of my newness to this city?” you laugh. Fledgling Osakan is referring to you right?

Osamu flashes you a meaningful look.“Well, having been here long enough, everything gets to be normal. It’s nice seeing someone new and excited.” 

“Yea, that makes sense.”

“So you watching the game tonight?” Osamu asks, gesturing to the MSBY Black Jackal poster plastered on the wall. Bokuto’s game is tonight. 

“Yea, I’ll watch it at home later.” 

“That sounds like a plan! Alright, let me know if I can get you anything else.” Osamu wipes his hands clean and returns back to his kitchen. “I’m gonna call Tsumu and wish him good luck.” 

“Actually, I need to get back too. Thanks again for the great meal Osamu!” 

“Bye, take care!” 

That reminds you, you should probably do what Osamu’s doing. Your fingers fly over the phone screen and tap out two words. Bokuto will probably say something like “don’t need it”, but you say what you need to say anyway. 

“ _ Good luck”  _

The clock continues ticking away. Soon, the sky is dark and the subways are packed. You end up catching-up with Matsuda during the commute home, much to her delight. She was convinced you had forgotten about her already. That beast of a lady was actually the one responsible for exterminating the obligation chocolates. And you commend her immensely. 

At home, you open up the laptop that’s housing the monstrous pile of emails and unorganized files. It needs to get tackled sooner or later. You switch on the T.V. and find the broadcast for Bokuto’s match, leaving it in the background while you fix up a simple meal first. You’re ambitious because you end up also catching-up with Yukie at the same time. Four tasks at once. This is true multitasking.

“Ugh, like this one I’m filing away, right now, it has the cheesiest plot,” you complain while renaming and dragging files around on the desktop. “I don’t know  _ why  _ they’re just giving each other these dumb longing gazes. And the face flushing every three seconds, what even is this. And the other one that’s termed as erotica, it’s not remotely-wait. Why am I even judging, I work at this publishing company.” 

“Mhm,” Yukie mumbles on the other end. She’s probably multitasking too. “This is the third time you say ‘what even is this’. Let me tell you, nothing’s wrong with those books. The problem is you’ve scrutinized too many of them and you’re not in the right headspace.” 

What headspace? The mood for romance? You grumble a bit back and shove another bite of dinner into your mouth while turning your attention to the T.V. screen. It’s not the same as watching live, but you can still easily distinguish each player. And Bokuto tries to make a hit. Damn it. SO CLOSE! It’s okay, next time. They don’t have much of a lead. Yes! Nice one Sakusa! 

“Hello~? You still there,” Yukie’s voice cuts in. “I didn’t hear you for the last few minutes. I hear stuff in the background, are you watching something?” 

“S-sorry! Yea, Bokuto’s match. They’re playing in Ōita.” 

“Ōita? Fun, I want to go to the hot springs.” Yea, you do too. “Anyways, I was saying you need to relax and have a self-care night or something. Just put your books down, laptop away. Journal or something. Take a nice bath.”

“I need that. Severely. Thanks for the idea.” 

“Remind Bokuto to chill too. He gets way too caught up and intense sometimes. The two of you are just sometimes too invested.” 

That’s a new observation you haven’t noticed. “Nah, we’re different.” 

After you end the call with Yukie, you commit some more attention to the match. They’re doing pretty well, so far, at least to your non-athlete eyes. To your recollection, the team won most of the matches this season. The losses were quite minimal and nothing by a huge margin. They’ll probably have a clear chance to be in the top 3. You bring your laptop over to the couch to get comfy and closer to the TV. You set aside the scarf you tossed onto the couch earlier. 

“Bokuto wraps up this set with a spike!” the announcer cries. 

Wrap. Scarf. Bokuto wrapping the scarf around you. You flinch and almost want to hit yourself at the connection. No, no. Work, work. You unwrap the company chocolate and take a bite. 

You manage to successfully return your attention back to work. While cleaning a folder of poorly named files, you chance upon a particular light novel. The naming is pretty bad, so you click it open and see which work this is. Oh it’s pretty cute. They are walking by the river and there are cherry blossoms. Shut up. Why is it always cherry blossoms? Can't they come up with something more original next time? The river works fine, but maybe something with some more bolder colors rather than the pastel pinks? Maybe flip day into night? River. Like the neon lights at Dotonbori! Yes, that would be a totally great date scene too…

“Bokuto’s on a roll again tonight!”

Neon lights at Dotonbori with Bokuto. 

“Indeed, usually he isn’t the graceful one on court, but his movements are so fluid today!” 

You glance at the TV and see the camera zooming in on Bokuto. You look away immediately. His face isn’t good for your thoughts right now. This is the problem with multitasking. With mild sleep deprivation, the way your brain is currently miswired, you are making absurd connections. A very dreadful logic is forming. You shut the TV off, without finishing the match. You probably should be listening to Yukie’s suggestion to just give the night to yourself. 

A bath is drawn. A rare treat even if it pales in comparison to a hot spring. Baths are excellent for either relaxation or an existential crisis. You wave your arm around in the water, listening to the ripples and watching the water droplets fall from your fingertips. When someone tells another, “don’t think of purple elephants”, what usually happens is, the other person ends up thinking of purple elephants. Clear your mind, you tell yourself. Joke’s on you.

Dotonbori. That night. You held onto his jacket sleeve like a lifeline. It felt like it didn’t matter where you were headed. It was safe and comfortable. You thought he would be in front of you and you had to look for a glimpse of his backside. It’s always his backside. But you found him right next to you instead. He appeared then, he appeared before. To tell you to follow your dreams. That he believes you’ll succeed. That you are stronger than you believe and smarter than you think. He- 

No. You’ve always been reliant even in high school. It’s just you hanging on to familiarity. Bokuto’s too nice and generous for his own good. He’s got way more important stuff to focus on anyway. And you’re sure you have a lot of stuff too. You’re independent. It’s good where you two are at. Just staying reconnected, that’s enough. All this. It’s the byproduct of those damn novels brainwashing you into reading every detail in the context of romance. But, you can’t deny the way you feel your face burn or heart pounding against your chest. A feeling that you need to, right this moment, run away and just bury yourself under your blanket. 

You’re in the perfect headspace for sleep. That’s what you truly need. That’s your real wish. Unfortunately, nothing’s going to go your way tonight. Cherry blossoms flood your dreamscape. Alongside mysterious light touches and feathery kisses. The next morning, you’re 200% convinced this is a dangerous side-effect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • Ōita prefecture is well known for its onsen (hot springs), [here's a list of a makeshift itinerary](https://www.japan.travel/en/itineraries/the-hot-springs-of-oita/) for wanderlust and photos  
> • Valentine's (Feb 14) in Japan has its own unique take on the tradition of giving chocolate to others. It's mostly done by girls/women (familiar from shoujo mangas right?). There are three types of chocolate: [honmei](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honmei_choco) (for husbands/boyfriends/love-interests), [giri](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giri_choco)(obligation for other males in life, coworkers, bosses, etc), and tomo (for friends). There's increasing [pushback on giri-chocos](https://www.theguardian.com/world/2019/feb/11/japanese-women-push-back-against-valentines-tradition-of-obligation-chocolate) because it can turn into [power harassment in firms](https://japantoday.com/category/features/lifestyle/%27giri%27-\(obligation\)-chocolates-seen-as-power-harassment-more-japanese-companies-ban-practice).  
> •Then because of marketing/capitalism, [White Day (March 14) ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Day)got popularized as a day where the guy would return the give to someone who gave him chocolates.  
> • Why did I add this plot point? We'll see.


	22. Ordinary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ordinary (adj): with no special or distinctive features; normal.  
> What does Ordinary mean to Bokuto?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all fellow readers who are taking finals, best of luck you got this. All those who have finished, I'm so so proud of you. And all those without school (hehe like me), I love you all so much.  
> I hope you'll enjoy, yet another Bokuto POV.

For the MSBY Black Jackals, a match in Ōita means a chance for some relaxation and respite during their busy season. It’s well known that the hot water and steam of the onsen are nature’s wonders for tense muscles. It’s a treat for the entire team and the athletes are already soaking their stress away in the heated pools. Even Sakusa, after constant reminders to the whole team to properly scrub themselves clean before dipping their toes in, is finding the experience utmost relaxing. Also because, at the very least, this onsen is limited only to the athletes. One would not find Sakusa anywhere near a public bath. What is surprising, is the lack of an owl-haired athlete amongst the group. Said athlete is currently on the phone outside the onsen.

“Saw the match, looking pretty good this season,” Kuroo compliments. He’s still working late at the office.

“Of course, I’m always that awesome!” Bokuto boasts.

Kuroo snickers. “Line-ups for World’s haven't been decided yet, but I’m pretty sure this season’s performance will be a factor. And the training session later in the year. You got a good shot.” 

“We’ll see. But something tells me that’s not why you’re calling. I’m smarter than that ya know.” 

“Geez, straight to business. This is unlike you!” Kuroo clears his throat. “What I do know, is about the Valentine’s event. The info should be sent out already.” 

“Okay, I’ll check it later. Should be like last year right? Why does this need a phone call?” 

“Can’t I just call you because you’re a friend, you horned owl?” 

Bokuto laughs. “HAH, Rooster Head, stop keeping me from my onsen.” 

“Woah, for real? Damn, I’m jealous! Alright, talk later.”

“Bye.”

Bokuto puts his stuff away and goes into the showering area to fully scrub himself clean before entering the onsen. He rolls his shoulders a bit and gives his right shoulder a quick massage. He spiked a bit too hard today, the onsen will be good. 

“Look who finally shows up!” Inunaki sneers.

Bokuto laughs and splashes himself with some of the much hotter water to acclimate to the temperature. 

“What took you so long?” Atsumu asks. 

“Talking to Kuroo,” Bokuto replies, finally sinking himself into the pool between Atsumu and Hinata. “Ahh, this feels great,” he sighs before continuing. “We were talking about the Valentine’s event in Tokyo. All the national team members should be there.” 

“Ohhh??” Hinata’s eyes brighten up. “Event? I didn’t know about it!” 

“Check your email sometime,” Sakusa states. “You might be more caught up with news.” 

“Well, what goes on usually?” 

Atsumu slides over and slings an arm around Hinata. “Imagine lines of fangirls and fanboys just waiting to proclaim their love for you in the form of chocolates.” 

“F-fans?!” 

Sakusa distances himself a bit and groans, “Please stop. I’m highly concerned with how I should turn them down. It’s just, so messy and crowded. And I don’t trust the homemade stuff.” 

“But those are the best ones Omi-omi! Filled with love.” 

“What about our Osaka fans?” Hinata asks. 

“We’re not doing an event this year,” Bokuto answers. Hinata begins to sport a crestfallen expression. 

“But they can bring it to our usual gym, there will be an area they can send it in. Along with fanmail.” Tomas adds on.

“Wow!” Hinata delights. 

“It’s never a ton, though. We’re not idols,” Tomas clarifies.

“So,” Inunaki starts in a serious tone, eyeing each of the athletes. “Who thinks they’ll get the most chocolates and fanmail?”

Atsumu runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to sound conceited-”

“You already do,” Sakusa comments. 

“Shuddup, just because you got the most fan mail last year doesn’t mean crap.” 

“So who got the most chocolates?” Hinata asks. Atsumu grumbles and turns away. Bokuto is staring off into the distance. Hinata follows Sakusa’s eyes over towards Meian.

Meian clears his throat and gingerly points a thumb towards himself. 

“C-captain!” Hinata exclaims full of awe. “Wow! That’s incredible!!” 

“It’s not a big deal, I don’t keep most of them anyway,” Meian explains, but clearly still smug. “But that guy actually received quite a bit too.” Meian turns the attention towards Bokuto who would usually be gibbering away with Atsumu off to the side. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Oho,” Inunaki jests. “It’s just us here, what ya thinking of. Chocolates from a cute girl? I remember you got a huge box last year. What did you even do with it in the end?”

“Wasn’t that big,” Bokuto replies, adjusting the towel on his head. “I brought it to Granny’s senior center.” 

“That’s right, you did. That’s so nice of you,” Meian points out. “We should think about where we want to donate our chocolates this year.” 

“Ah!” Hinata suddenly exclaims. “That’s what it is! Bokuto, you’re thinking about y/n!”

All eyes turn to Bokuto. Bokuto jumps up, startled. “What?! No! Wait, what makes you say that? I was just, just, thinking about the match and practice and how to-” 

“Just stop, you’re embarrassing yourself,” Sakusa mumbles. “You’re turning red. Quiet down.” 

“It’s hot here okay,” Bokuto defends. “You’re red too!” 

“EHHH? What thoughts are you having, Bokkun?” Atsumu teases. “Your little date?” 

Inunaki snickers and Bokuto turns even redder.

“Do you guys want to get kicked out? Quiet down,” Meian orders. His line cuts through the entertainment and the others settle down momentarily. Bokuto sits back down next to Hinata and asks quietly, “Why do you think that?” 

Hinata furrows his brows. “Well, your expression reminded me of someone I knew back in Brazil.” He taps his chin quizzically. “And he would always tell me about his girlfriend.” 

Bokuto flushes upon hearing “girlfriend” and connecting the dots together.

“Yea!” Hinata nods. “In fact, they got married right before I came back to Japan! I even attended their wedding.” 

Bokuto almost feels a little dizzy. The words are a bit too loaded and upfront for him to handle. He wonders how Hinata can just spit the words out like any other words. 

“Have you made a move yet?” Tomas asks, genuinely interested. He’s usually not one for gossip and definitely not one to tease; however, this question weighing on everyone’s mind must be asked. 

“Y-you mean confess?” Bokuto stutters. The word rolls off prickly and foreign. “N-no. We’re just friends. I haven’t thought about that. Why are you asking? Wait. How do you all know?!?! I. Her? We?...What if she doesn’t like me back?” The only coherent part is added softly, almost like an afterthought. 

Sakusa rolls his eyes, “Well, ever since last year you’ve been just nonstop talking about her.” 

Barnes chuckles. “Actually Sakusa, Bokuto mentioned her before too. Here and there, but it mostly stopped for a couple of years. I thought it was just an old friend really. But it picked up again last year.”

“If you tell her, then you’ll know how she feels,” Inunaki states as a matter-of-fact. 

Bokuto helplessly watches and listens to his teammates discuss you. At this point, it doesn’t matter what he says anymore. He’s damned if he does, damned if he doesn’t. They all know.

“Actually, I’m curious. What do you like about her?” Atsumu asks bluntly. No teasing expressions are left on his face. “She’s pretty ordinary isn’t she? I get she’s very smart and all, but ehh.” 

Tomas is about to tell Atsumu off. _Ordinary_ is just not a very appealing term. The setter is known for his bluntness on and off court, but with matters requiring a slightly gentler sensitivity, the man sometimes has no sense. Sakusa also raises an eyebrow at Atsumu’s speech.

“What’s wrong with ordinary?!” Bokuto questions. “I’m ordinary too! W-we can be ordinary together!” 

Everyone in the room looks at each other and breaks out laughing. Their thoughts are obvious. Bokuto? Ordinary? When hell freezes over. This guy is the opposite of “ordinary”. Some days they wonder if the man actually has anything in between 0 and 100. Also, did he even catch his own usage of ‘we’? 

“What’s wrong with _ordinary_ ,” Bokuto asks again, confused by everyone’s laughter. He’s embarrassed and anxious. He never feels like this before a game. Well he used to, sometimes, but at least not anymore. However, this concerns you, so he needs to know why they are laughing. He knows that ‘mundane’ and ‘boring’ are not so good, but what about ‘ordinary’? “Is it a bad thing?”

“What does _ordinary_ mean to you, Bokuto?” Meian prompts. Bokuto doesn’t need the extra time to think, it’s a simple question he can easily answer. 

“Constant,” he answers swiftly. “Maybe you don’t find it special or fresh because it’s always there. But anything can go wrong or change, and something ordinary will still always be there…” 

“But she did change, didn’t she? People always change.”  
That’s true. There’s no denying it. 

“Maybe Bokuto didn’t mean _constant_ as in the same, same.” Hinata hypothesizes. “Two people don’t always have to be stuck together. Or never change. They could...maybe be working towards the same goal. Walking different paths, but...cheer for each other still. Maybe you don’t remember the person for a year or two, but when you meet it’s still like a day hasn’t passed. Still a team, even apart. There are always things that don’t change.” 

Hinata is right. Both of you are certainly different now, physically changed, and emotionally matured. But your wavelength is completely recognizable. Bokuto nods fervently in agreement. “I think it’s just like that!” 

“So, when did you _know_?” Inunaki follows-up. 

“When? I don’t know...it’s sort of,” Bokuto wracks his brain for the right words. There’s no point really hiding anything anymore, especially now that everyone knows. “Not sure? It’s like each moment collects. Sort of like a droplet into a puddle. And suddenly, the puddle became a pool…” Bokuto expands his arms to express how full his heart became, to emphasize his point. Some of the water splashes for effect. 

Atsumu and Inunaki promptly snicker off to the side. Trust Bokuto to have the weirdest reasoning and reactions ever. “What poetry is that Bokkun? Did you get that from a book or something? Lame.”

Bokuto furrows his brows and sinks deeper into the water. 

“Now, stop teasing. Nothing wrong with it,” Barnes reasons. “For some people, affection comes like a wave. For others, it's like a flower pod, it requires time and careful nurturing. It’s not like a sudden black and white.” 

“I like that way of putting it,” Meian agrees. 

“Do what feels right,” Tomas adds. “You can think and practice all you want, but during a match, it’s mostly instinct with just a bit of brain. Relax.”

With the positive remarks of the older athletes, soon the pool falls relatively quiet, everyone deep in their own thoughts. Bokuto’s mind goes over what Barnes just said. He can’t think of _the_ moment where suddenly, he feels something especially unique in his relationship with you. Nothing like a flip of a switch. There are a couple of highlights, though. Spending time with you more recently has made him realize something in particular. He thinks it was the day you first arrived in Osaka. After dinner when you were on the same couch as him. He was watching a game, you were working on the laptop. Truth be told, he was only half-watching the game. The blue light from your laptop illuminated your face and the contents of the document were reflected in your eyes. You were so focused with your work, always so incredibly dedicated. No matter what the task was. It was always the same. Is.

\----

It’s hard to concentrate. For Bokuto, it’s especially difficult. Sure, as an athlete he sweats like crazy during practice or during a game, and he still has to concentrate, but those are moments where there are distractions and other things to focus on. _Easier_ tasks to focus on. Math is simply not an easy task in the sweltering heat. 

It’s the summer of his final year at Fukurodani. The upcoming start for the fall inter-high is looming in Bokuto’s mind. He’s captain now. He wants to take the team to Nationals. Win Nationals. Fall or Spring. Maybe both if possible. It’s a promise to you and to his team. You’re already busy studying for the university exams happening in January next year. It occurs to Bokuto that this will be the last summer in your grey uniforms. Already?

The two of you are sitting by an open window to hopefully catch a slight breeze. Your eyes are focused on the book and paper in front of you. The scrawl on the page is clearly not yours, but rather the boy sitting right next to you. Your face turns from book to the page and back again, fingers tracing the writing on the paper, occasionally making faint marks and notations on the page. Bokuto is sitting patiently beside you and watching you correct his work. Unnaturally patient, he actually feels no desire to go out running at the moment. He zones out listening to the cicadas hidden in trees buzzing outside. White clouds travel slowly across cerulean skies. You are unfazed by everything else happening, eyes focused on the pages in front of you. There are some shadows under your eyes, Bokuto notices. He sees this on Akaashi very often too. The two overachievers he manages to secure to his side. Have you been sleeping well? You blink as if acknowledging his question. Eyelashes go up and down. Oh, you have eyelashes. He supposes humans do, more or less, but that’s something he never noticed. How many do you have? He decides to count them and find out, you wouldn’t notice anyway. Bokuto’s mind is pretty much empty, except for the mental tallying.

_One, two, three...four, five...oh she blinked. Wait no, let me start over. One, two...messed up. One, two, three, four…_

He doesn’t even notice that he times his own blink with yours. Or that he never counts past seven. 

“Koutarou, you made the same mistake here again,” you nudge the boy next to you. He’s not quite asleep, but it’s too late to wake up already. He knows he’s slipping away for a long nap. The last thing he feels is a shadow across his face, the sunlight no longer burning on his skin. 

_Mistake? No, there’s no mistake at all. There’s just too many to count._

\----

It was almost like right now. The heat and the shadow across his face. That time, after he had woken up, he found a folded book in front of his face, blocking the sun that was no longer shining on his face. You were fast asleep napping right next to him, face buried in your arms. And the sky. It was orange. 

“Bokuto,” a voice calls him. It’s not your voice. “Hey, Bokuto.” 

“Here, let me try,” another voice cuts in. “YA DUMBASS, didn’t yer Ma ever teach ya not to sleep in the onsen?!?!” 

Bokuto slowly opens his eyes to find Atsumu and Hinata over him. “Yer naked,” he mumbles, before shutting his eyes again. 

“DUMB OWL, GET UP,” Atsumu yells again, trying to haul the athlete out of the water. “Meian, HELP.” 

Meian comes over with a room temperature towel and a bucket of water to help Bokuto recover. Tomas brings a cup of water. Somehow the team manages to get Bokuto out of the pool. Hinata frantically fans Bokuto’s face and switches out the towel cooling the owl’s forehead. It takes a while before Bokuto fully comes back to his senses.

The rest of the team prepares to head to their rooms for the night. Bokuto stretches his neck and takes another gulp of water. Meian taps Bokuto on the shoulder. “A bit stuffy isn’t it? Walk with me?” 

They throw on their parka and step outside. The faint evening wind further helps Bokuto fight the headache from the heat. It’s been a while since Bokuto has taken a walk with his captain. 

“Out of the younger half of the team,” Meian begins, “you were the first one to join. Right after high-school I remember. Been a while hasn’t it? I wasn’t even captain yet at the time.”

“Mhm.” 

“I remember practicing with you for the first time.”

\---

It’s been about a year since joining the team. Bokuto is technically no longer a new recruit. Today, practice isn’t very ideal. He feels stiff and his spikes aren’t working out. Bokuto bites his lip and reminds himself of his purpose. 

_This is not the place or time to get dejected. Focus. Think. Practice._

Bokuto takes a deep breath and tosses the ball to the assistant coach one more time. The ball is set in time for Bokuto’s run up. The three dummy blockers set up at the net do little to block his shot. In all regards, the shot is good. Not good enough though. The little things. The angle of the run up, the timing of the jump, how to better use his abdominals. How wide to open his chest. How to swing more effectively. Fingers. How to use the left arm to help him jump higher and deliver a more powerful spike. Physics. There are so many things he still needs to improve. 

“Bokuto, I need to practice blocks,” someone calls out. “Do you want to spike for me?”

It’s Meian Shuugo, the middle blocker and rising star of the starting lineup. He’s well-loved in the starting lineup and well-respected throughout the rest of the team. He’s currently practicing with the team captain. Captain also calls Bokuto over. 

This is the first time Bokuto is practicing with Meian so closely. He has played against and with him during practice matches, but this is completely different. Bokuto doesn’t want to disappoint the captain or Meian. 

_I’ll give this spike my all. Pour all of my soul into it. Show them I belong here._

\---

“Ah, you were incredible, really. I was pretty demanding and you kept jumping,” Meian remarks. 

Bokuto shakes his head quickly, “no! I must thank you! For helping me refine my movements and just helping me…” 

“Koutarou! You’re always just like a younger brother to me,” Meian laughs, patting Bokuto’s shoulder. “We all train extremely hard, but I know you very well. You train harder than any of us at that time.” 

“Meian…”

“It’s true. You’ve come far.” 

Meian and Bokuto find themselves back at the entrance of the resort. “Athletics is a pretty short-lived career,” Meian pats Bokuto’s shoulder. “It’s your job to make sure it’s something you can do for as long as possible. Training, yes. But it also means taking care of yourself too. A lot of people care about you Koutarou. If you hurt yourself, you’ll only end up hurting them too. Don’t be staying in the onsen like that next time, alright? ” 

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Meian gives a final grin before heading down the hall. “Sleep well, see ya tomorrow.” Bokuto also goes to his own room.

His phone hasn’t been touched since Kuroo called him. Since then, you’ve sent a text message. 

_“Did you eat well? Good match tonight!”_

Bokuto can only press his lips together as a smile curves up towards his eyes. 

_“Sure did!”_

Bokuto scrolls through the chat archive again and opens your photo once more. Your eyes are looking straight at him through the screen. Focused and lively. The memory of a summer years ago is almost like a dream. If each memory is a droplet in the spring, that specific moment must be when the well became full. And only after a goodbye and a hello, has Bokuto come to understand that his heart has been brimming all along. Only now, is everything spilling over with wants and desires. 

Your eyes were always relaxed when you were focused. He noticed a special gleam in them when you were reading. It was unique. He noticed it during your first meeting. Even if the problem was hard or if the passage confusing, none of them truly stood in your way. You always seemed to go through them with ease. The way your fingers followed the black text on white paper...

Bokuto would think to himself, “ _Is there any way I can be like the words under your pen? If I were the words under your pen, would you look at me like that too? I would be happy.”_

Maybe he really did read too many lame books. He tried to, because you read so much. Learned new words, because you knew so many. And one day, Bokuto found the answer. There was a way. The first time you saw him play in a game, he noticed your eyes lit up even brighter. 

Then, he saw you beyond just tutoring or down the hall. Sometimes you went to his games. Other times, you watched practice if you weren’t so busy. You even suggested volleyball as a study-break. So, there was a way for him to be like the fancy words and prose you seemed to adore. A simple and easy way to keep your eyes on him. As long as possible. The best spike. The best receive. The best player. Ace. 

It was an innocent hope. Only that you would stick around longer as a close friend. But it proved to fail once you became too busy. In the fall, he failed. The final time you watched him play, he also lost. He was so close. You got into the program of your dreams as you had hoped. “It’s not impossible, just hard,” Bokuto thought. In the end, he didn’t win nationals as he promised. 

But volleyball is all that he has to offer. He left Tokyo for Osaka with the understanding that without volleyball, he wouldn’t have the means of success as his university friends or other high school graduates going for apprenticeships and training. There’s no turning back. He’ll work hard. Jump high and spike hard for everyone to see. Maybe you’ll see. It seems that one day you did. Since last year, Bokuto can’t help but feel like somehow he’s been given a second chance. This time, this year, he’ll jump higher than before. Spike harder than ever. If volleyball is a way to keep your eyes on him for just a while longer, then he’ll try to remain in the spotlight for as long as possible. He’ll show you. 

_Watch me, I’m here._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • This chapter was definitely brought to you by Satie's Gymnopédie No. 1 and Debussy's Clair de Lune.  
> • [Onsen 温泉 ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Onsen)(lit. “hot water spring”) is a natural hot spring bath. It's geothermally heated, ultra hot with lots of natural minerals.  
> •There are lots of etiquettes for onsen goers, for good reason since it is for people to relax. You got to be clean, naked, and quiet. (Thankfully our boys check at least 2/3). For more details, here is a [link. ](https://livejapan.com/en/article-a0002861/)  
> •I don't think I mentioned, but this story is also cross-posted on my tumblr, haikyooot. This is still the main posting area, but if you are on tumblr, feel free to stop by and say 'hi' (and let me know who you are😀)


	23. This and That

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took a little while, but the proof is laid out there on the pages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies <3 I was pretty swamped with some stuff the last 72 hours, so I couldn't get this chapter out. But it is here now, finally! And indeed "FINALLY", for multiple reasons.

There are some truths you can lock away in a closet for years, maybe a lifetime, and never have to deal with. Other truths are a bit peskier. They will sneak out from whatever confines you throw over them and pop up in your face. They’ll hover around everywhere screaming, “Look at me! Yoohoo, over here!” When you finally think it’s getting quiet, they’ll whisper into your mind, “I’m still here, you know.” Those truths are especially difficult to deal with. And that’s exactly what’s ailing you for the last several days. Days don’t sound like much, but it’s been perceptively an eternity. 

“You doing alright?” Jun waves their hand in front of your face. You blink.

“Oh, sorry, spaced out for a second.” 

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yea,” you massage your temples. “Just maybe a bit of an off-day. What was it that you wanted to tell me, again?”

Jun sets a folder down. “You made some errors here, I marked them already, but could you take another look?” 

You open the folder and glance at the contents. Crap. “Thanks Jun! Darn. Sorry about that, I’ll...I’ll get this back to you before the end of day for sure.”

“No worries! It’s not something high stakes anyways,” Jun reassures. “Have you actually been sleeping? You look quite drained...actually, do you want to go home and rest? I can work with Hana on this project.” 

You shake your head quickly, “Oh, no. Really, it’s okay. I just have a lot of thoughts going on in my mind. I think once this week’s over, I’ll be better.” _Hopefully,_ you add mentally. 

“Do you want to talk about it? We can go grab a coffee,” they offer. 

Truthfully, you had been considering opening up to Jun about what’s been on your mind. They’re someone who is truly a good listener and close enough to feel comfortable talking with. Yet also distant enough so they don’t know absolutely every single detail in your life. Coffee breaks with Jun are truly something relaxing. And maybe, they can help.

“Yes please.”

During lunch, the two of you go to a local coffee shop. Most people are taking their orders to go and you are able to secure a spot in a nook next to a large window. Jun takes a sip of their coffee. “So. Feel free, take your time.” 

“I’m not sure where to start,” you spit out with some difficulty. 

“From the beginning, only whatever is comfortable.” 

“Okay,” you take a sip of your drink. “So, you know Bokuto?” 

“From the volleyball team? Went to high school with ya?”

“Yea, that’s him,” you press your lips together for what you’re about to say. “Well, I think I like him.” 

“Okay,” Jun acknowledges.

“As in...more than a friend,” you clarify slowly. 

“Alright.” 

You’re not sure what you should be expecting from their expressions or response. Hana might’ve started to freak out and ask a flurry of questions, but Jun seems especially normal. “Why are you so nonchalant about this? Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, have some more reaction or something?” 

“I’m not Hana,” they joke. 

You chuckle, “Fair. By the way, where is she?”

“You must have zoned out, she has a lunch date right now.” 

“Oh, really? That’s nice,” you remark. Hana and her dating adventures are something Hana openly talks about. If you missed it, you’re not just zoning out. You’ve been dead.

“Mhm, we can ask her about it later. But let’s continue your little story. Are the feelings something you realized just recently?” 

“Sort of? I think it only hit me just now,” you mumble into your cup. “You know how a couple days ago, Hana invited me out to that mixer?”

Jun nods. “Uh huh, I heard from Hana that you left early.” 

“I did.”

“Did something happen?” Jun frowns.

“No!” you dismiss. “No, not anything bad. It just...” 

\-----

“I haven’t done this since university days,” you warn Hana, checking yourself out in the mirror. You look presentable, for sure. Glamorous? Somewhat, probably just not drop-dead though. 

“Don’t worry, it’s super informal. Either way, just have fun. If I see someone interesting, I keep talking. Otherwise, I just treat it as a networking event,” Hana explains, putting finishing touches on her makeup. “The more people you meet, the more you know what you like and dislike.” 

“I like burrowing myself at home and watching TV,” you frown. 

Hana giggles, “If you really hate it this time, I won’t ask you again. Promise.” 

“How many people are there again?” You know you’re there because someone couldn’t make it.

Hana shows you three fingers. “You, me, and another girl from Marketing. It’s a super small one this time. Usually, I bring a large group of guys and girls, you know. Today, it’s just us three ladies.” 

Hana is known by coworkers as a very social person. She often arranges mixers with other people in her extremely large social circle. Many of the young, single office workers hoping to meet someone would be wise to be on her good side. There have been success stories already.

The mixer is held in a karaoke room. A large TV hangs on the wall, along with tablets for song selections. A couple mics are charging in the corner. Hana and her friend seem to be especially cheerful. The three male guests Hana set up through another friend seem friendly enough. You give a brief polite handshake and take a seat nearest to the entrance. Then, like any other event, everyone orders some food and drinks, then goes in a circle for introductions. Along with a “fun fact”. What’s a “fun fact” exactly? Are they looking for some impressive achievement or clever bar trick? You don’t really have either. If you really have to stretch something cool out. You suppose a fun fact is, “ _I am Bokuto’s friend. You know, Bokuto Koutarou? Yep.”_

Truth be told, you’re a little more than half-willing to come with Hana _because_ of Bokuto. The pesky little owl chipping away at your mind has made you realize that your grip is starting to slip. With each thought and remembrance, you can almost feel the buds of fondness being planted. That’s no good. You’re probably just deficient in social contact. Other than your coworkers and Bokuto, you really haven’t gone out of your way to meet others. Integrate, socialize, date. Is it something _normal_ to do? Something that people your age ought to do? Jun’s in a loving relationship. Hana is having her own fun. Yukie mentioned she’s seeing someone too. What about the boys? You can’t remember if they said anything. Akaashi didn’t ever mention anything. Actually, neither did Bokuto. Does Bokuto have a special someone? Or previously? You stop your thoughts on Bokuto. That’s exactly _WHY_ you are here in the first place. 

You realize you have already missed their self-introductions and do not know their names at all. There’s an edgy one, you decide to call him Tattoos. The one Hana is talking to looks like a very ordinary office worker. He looks like a hard worker…. Glasses it is. And now, the one sitting in front of you. His hair is gelled up, spiky, eccentric. Reminds you of Bokuto honestly, if you don’t look anywhere below the hairline, but if you have to be honest, Bokuto’s hair is much nicer. And really soft too, you would know. It’s so surprising actually, you would think it’s very dry or damaged. So, quite unlike the person in front of you. You’ll call him Owl? No, that’s only for Bokuto, and this person is just sort of looking like Bokuto. Again, if you don’t look below the hairline. Did he just mention “volleyball”? You turn your attention back to the guy and end up hearing the last tidbit of his introduction.

“That’s all I have to say for now, would love to hear more about you.” 

You proceed to give him a quick introduction. It comes easy with all the interview and networking practice you have up your sleeve, and from each of the times you attend author meetings. 

“That’s cool!” he remarks. 

Awkward silence. 

“So you played volleyball?” you ask, finding a conversation starter. 

“Yea! I was the outside hitter for my high school team,” he boasts. 

You nod absentmindedly. Bokuto plays outside hitter. He’s the most excellent outside hitter you’ve seen. Correction. Most impressive volleyball athlete you’ve met. Fake Bokuto. Copycat. Let’s call him that. 

“Do you watch V.League matches?” you ask.

Copycat looks startled. “Oh um, not much. I’m pretty busy with work usually. Volleyball was just something I did in high-school with my friends.” 

“Hm, understandable.” 

An awkward pause looms over the two of you again. It’s only made even more awkward as the two other pairs in the room are continuing their lively chatter. Especially Hana. She seems to be really enjoying her time chatting with Glasses. Glasses seems a lot more talkative than he looks too. Good for them. For the most part, you are able to hold a relatively stable conversation with Copycat. There’s nothing particularly impressive about him, and nothing jumping out as terribly bad. His looks are okay, minus the hair. Actually, it doesn’t match with his face and he definitely put a bit too much product in. Bokuto’s hair isn’t like that. Instead, it’s styled so well that you forget it’s styled in the first place. Copycat is pretty ordinary. And frankly, a potential _fit_ to your own version of ordinary by all societal standards. You ask a bit about his work, he asks you about yours. Office workers, okay yea, that’s pretty much a match. You mention that you had moved to Osaka from Tokyo. In a separate reality, you may consider talking to Copycat a bit more. But every extra second chatting with the person in front of you only shoves Bokuto’s image more and more into your mind.

“Let’s karaoke!” Hana exclaims, jumping up from her seat. She dances over and grabs your wrist, shoving a mic into your hand. You don’t mind relaxing and just having some fun. After a song or two, you sit with a tambourine, instead. Maybe you’ll leave soon, actually. The energy of the room is a bit draining. While the other four are busy having their fun, Copycat strikes up another conversation. 

“How do you like Osaka so far?” Copycat asks, shifting nervously in his seat. “Are you, um, still getting used to stuff?” 

“It’s nice, I know my way around, at least.”

“Okay, that’s good! Have you been to any of the tourist locations? Osaka Castle? Dotonbori?” 

“Dotonbori, it’s nice,” you respond. Nice is just a cover word for a lot more. “Nowhere else...I’ve been, quite busy.”

“Right,” he chuckles. “I...um, if you’re free on weekends and all, I can show you around. If you’d like.” 

Is this an invitation? Is this it? A beginning of something people your age should be doing? That’s what happened in university, you don’t even know how the relationship started. Or how it ended either. Came and went in a whirl. 

**_“I want to show you Osaka!”_ **

“No!” you blurt out. You are surprised by how loud you are and add on softly, “Sorry.”

Copycat jumps slightly at your sudden outburst. “I guess I was a bit too upfront about it.” 

“I just...there’s,” your eyes dart to the side. “Someone else already...”

“Is there someone you like?”

You grow flustered at the question. Your cheeks grow hot as you give a slow nod. Your hands fiddle with your glass some more, clinking the ice around.

“Hah, well,” he lets out a sigh. “I guess I’m just not going to have a chance at all.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble quietly. “You’re very, nice.” You internally wince at your poor vocabulary.

“It’s okay,” Copycat chuckles slightly, running a hand through his over-gelled hair. “I felt connected when we were chatting...And also, I think it’s really brave of you to make a decision to move alone to a new place, actually.”

“It’s nothing much.” 

“Well, it’s more than I can do at least. This is my first mixer, you know,” he points to his hair. “I actually don’t normally do this. Just wanted to look a bit cooler.” 

You laugh, “Try less product next time. Gels and creams do better on damp hair, better for really a shiny and sleek look. For the look you want, maybe try pastes or wax too, a bit warmed up...and only on dry hair.” It almost surprises you too, how you happen to know random tidbits about men’s hair care. 

“That’s really helpful actually, thanks,” Copycat is surprised too. “You know quite a bit!” 

You want to know why too. “I have a friend. He does his hair pretty much every day.”

Silence falls between the two of you. The other people’s karaoke shrills continue to blast out from the speakers. 

“Ahhh, I see. That’s cool. But, yea, anyways, thanks for being honest and transparent about it. And, I hope that things work out for you.” 

After another couple of songs, you let Hana and Copycat know you’ll be leaving first.

\----

If your heart wasn’t already occupied, maybe you would have accepted the person in front of you. Like in university, there was someone who was quite like Copycat. Normal, polite, kind. Nothing grievously wrong and nothing especially remarkable either. It’s too late, you must finally admit. Maybe the heart just wants what it can’t have. Once it has its tendrils wrapped around something else, no other convincing or attempts at forgetting will work. The more you try, the more it only becomes a game of comparisons. Everything else is just a fraud, an empty copycat of what is the genuine target for your affections. The heart won’t be satisfied otherwise.

“Well, either way, sounds like the mixer was still useful!” Jun laughs. 

You roll your eyes.

“In all seriousness, though,” Jun props up their chin. “It’s not something that is a big deal. You like him, more than a friend, that’s fine. It’s normal. What’s wrong?” 

“Everything?” you breathe out. “I feel like I’m not supposed to like him in that way.” 

“Why not? What’s stopping you from liking him versus any other person?”

“Well, nothing. But it’s...I feel different from any past relations. This time…I think I’ve fallen too much, too fast.” 

“As in, you actually have a stake of your heart in this,” 

You nod. 

“It’s tough. I know you’ve been friends with him for quite long, and reconnected a while back.” 

You nod again.

“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you explain. “I mean I think I should just be grateful for how we reconnected in the first place. I didn’t expect something to just spring up like this. At all.” 

“Regardless of whether or not you like him, your friendship has changed.” Jun points out. “I don’t know you as long as Bokuto does or maybe some of your other friends. However, it’s just the truth that all relationships change no matter what. People change. And even if people don’t change, the circumstances do.” 

Jun’s words are like a bucket of cold water, splashing you awake. They are completely right. Deep down, you’re unsure of what’s to come. What should come. What can come.

“We’re too different,” you sigh exasperatedly. “Maybe if we were both in high school or something. Now, it’s just too complicated. I’m just a normal editor doing my stuff and he-”

“And he is just an athlete doing his stuff.” Jun finishes. “Both of you have your respective careers. Is there a rule that says you two can’t be together? High-school was a messy time, I think you forgot how busy third year was. I actually think it’s much better now. Two adults, decently responsible, financially pretty stable.” 

You sigh loudly and also prop your chin up. Jun continues, “Look, there are so many things people can come up with to define what the _right_ and _proper_ relationship should be like. There isn’t one magic formula. You probably have a million reasons why you shouldn’t pursue him and I can think of one solid, good reason overriding all of that on why you should. Do you want to hear it?” 

“Sure.”

“Because your heart is telling you to.” 

You snort, “That sounds so foolish, Jun.” 

“No, really. Calling me out here, this talk,” Jun taps the table lightly. They finish their drink in one last gulp. “You probably already made up your mind. If I’m not wrong, it seems like you just want an OK, a sign to go ahead. And reassure your anxieties that this is a good idea.” 

You give a defeated smile. Jun’s perceptive and sharp. “You’re right. So, now what? Should I profess my undying love or just let it rot in a corner?” 

“Don’t run away from your feelings. Even if you don’t act on them, acknowledge them.” Jun shrugs. “Do you want a relationship with him?” 

“I don’t know if I am the one, though.” 

“You’re an editor, come on, actually pay attention to my words. It’s not about him and what he needs or wants. Let him decide that. What do you want?”

“How did you confess?” you ask. You'll keep their question in mind for later. What do you want? You'll have to think about that.

Jun gives a wry smile, “What makes you think I confessed?” 

You also finish your drink and clear away the remnants of lunch, getting ready to leave. “Because from your words to me, I sense someone nudging me to take the initiative.” 

“I believe in taking my fate into my own hands. If I fall on a sword, at least it’s on my own accord,” Jun laughs, also standing up. “But to answer your question. I just did it when it felt right.” 

\----

Yet another day at work passes by. You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Scrutinize your own features, scrunching your face a bit and take a deep breath. 

“Bokuto, I like you.” you recite out loud. It just sounds awkward and jarring to your ears. 

“K-Koutarou, I have feelings...” You watch your own face twist and feel your cheeks turn hot. You massage your cheeks a bit.

“This is stupid,” you mutter and step out of the bathroom. You lay across your bed and begin to jot some thoughts down in your journal. _“So now I have feels. I literally cannot fathom how it happened.”_ Actually, how did you catch these feels to begin with? 

You flip back the pages and see all that has happened so far. It looks something like this.

_“He actually called. I was surprised...it’s a bit weird talking to him again, but also nice at the same time. They’re going out for yakiniku again?! Ugh, I have leftovers only. Wish I could be there.”_

_“Bokuto inspires me to wake up and be a good person, hahaha.”_

_“I reviewed all the rules for volleyball. Maybe next time Bokuto rants I’ll actually follow. He likes taking walks now? I thought he liked running.”_

_“Mino Park looks nice, it’s so pretty! He’s still so funny and just crazy.”_

_“Bokuto’s amazing as usual. We’re watching you, Ace!”_

_“It’s like he knows when I had a shitty day. What a coincidence?! Right after that horrid meeting today (let’s forget about that), he called, he’s going to go home for the holidays.”_

_“Three way call: Akaashi, Bokuto, and I. Lawfully, Chaotic, Goodness”_

_“How does he have the time to do his hair all the time?”_

_“Bokuto’s so sweet. His place is literally so homely. Where did he learn how to cook like that? If you told me that in high-school, I would not believe you. I still didn’t believe it until I got proven wrong. 11/10 need him to cook again in the future. Also hair is so soft?!?!”_

_“Went window shopping with Hana. Didn’t buy anything, but we got taiyaki ice cream. Really good. I saw a poster of Bokuto and his team at this sports store. Seems like they are pretty popular.”_

_“Do you think he did or didn’t pray for matchmaking? HAHAHA. I remember once when we went to the temple for New Year's, he brought a whole piggy bank of coins for prayers!”_

_“Koutarou. That’s it. Haven’t called him that in forever.”_

_“Haven’t heard from Bokuto in a few days beyond a few one-liners. I think he’s really busy these days. Actually, funny. Right after I wrote that line he texted, LOL. Are my good luck messages well timed too?”_

_“Our photo! I finally got a chance to print it out. Dotonbori was so much fun. The crowds were insane, but somehow I didn’t lose him~.”_

_“Is it getting bad if I’m hoping that was a date?? Hahaha, nah, I’m just crazy.”_

_“Put on a scarf today, it’s so cold!!! When is it going to warm up! Each time I wear this particular scarf, I always think of Bokuto now lol…I hope he’s doing okay. When is Winter over? I want Spring, maybe we can go have a picnic or something.”_

_“I think I like him.”_

It’s a lot. Bokuto to you? A source of inspiration. A precious gem tucked safely in your heart. And you want to be selfish about keeping this treasure there for as long as possible. Skip forward a few extra steps, hold his hand, stand next to him. Like that night in the crowd, expectedly right with you. So that’s what your thoughts have been. Slowly but surely, the entries have truly transformed in more ways than one. It took a little while, but the proof is laid out there on the pages. It has been sort of always, Bokuto this and Bokuto that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • [Karaoke](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karaoke_box) is a popular activity for friends, coworkers to bond and have fun. Japan came up with karaoke boxes, an establishment for karaoke with private rooms you can rent and have fun in. You can order refreshments and etc as well. Fanciness and service ranges from cheap to expensive.  
> • Am I adding a bullet for hair products? Yes. This chapter is not sponsored by Gatsby's [hair waxes](https://www.gatsbyglobal.com/en/product/). Probably the most popular brand for mens' hair styling product in Japan, I fully headcannon that Bokuto uses it too. [Hair Gel vs Hair Wax](https://www.gatsbyglobal.com/en/technique/abouthairwax/).


	24. Perseverance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The MSBY Black Jackals snag one more victory in Matsumoto. However, emotions run conflicted amongst the athletes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter's comments were mostly "FINALLY!!!" and I can attest, there really isn't anymore to say about that, right? 😂 I didn't get to reply to everyone, but I did read each one. And I love the excitement so much, thank you!!  
> This Bokuto POV will wrap up the "Discover Feelings" arc. And we're going off in another direction & development from here now~ In the next week or so, the tags will be updated. But Slow Burn, you know, isn't going anywhere *winks/evil cackle*

Bokuto splashes water onto his face. He studies himself in the mirror. Water droplets dripple from his chin. His shoulders are wide, chest defined, abs tight. Bokuto is proud of how his body is now built after years and years of training. He runs a hand through his hair, making sure the pieces are fully pulled and set away from his face. This game at Matsumoto isn’t in the final leg, but with this win, the MSBY Black Jackal would almost undoubtedly have enough points and wins to easily qualify for the final rounds. The opponent, according to intel, won’t be posing a huge challenge either. Yet, it would be a great dishonor to the team, to the opponents, and to the fans if he were to simply slack on-court out of belief that the matchup is going to be an easy win. Moreover, it is a known, just undisclosed, fact that the volleyball association is closely watching each of these matches. There’s probably a file on each of the nationally ranked players: their strengths, weaknesses, and fit into the national team. It’s all for the World Cup at the end of the year. Who will they choose? Will they base the list from these matches or would there be tryouts? There are so many spots for each position. Take an outside hitter for instance. On the MSBY Black Jackal, there is himself and Sakusa. There’s also Ushijima, Ojiro Aran, and Wakatsu Kiryuu. The collective top 5 aces from a few years back. These are just a couple, out of many other Outside Hitters. 

“You can do this,” Bokuto states firmly. “Just focus.” 

Bokuto affirms himself once more and gathers with the rest of the team, waiting for Coach Foster’s pep talk.

“Alright, we’re almost there. I don’t need to say more on what winning this match will mean for this season. Don’t gloat, don’t be cocky, hold tight. And don’t rush,” Foster tells everyone. “That team is pretty balanced, but since their middle blocker is currently injured, their defense has weakened. They may try to play offense aggressively from the start to score as many points as possible. Hinata, I’ll leave it to you. Coordinate it out with Meian and Tomas. Bokuto, you’re up in the front first. Attack them with cross-shots, if we take the first points, it’ll be good pressure. Sakusa, same to you when you rotate up. Atsumu, take care of the front line gameflow. All good?” 

“YES Coach,” the team answers in unison. Each of the athletes mentally repeat the role given to them by Foster. Everyone is a part of the team, an integral piece of the larger body. If everyone does their role right, if each piece fits together just perfectly, the team as a whole will triumph.

“Excellent. Meian, I’ll leave final words to you.”

The athletes come together into their huddle. Meian begins the familiar opening words that are spoken at the beginning of each match. “We are the results of our training. Stay focused and adapt, trust yourself and your team.” 

It’s almost like a pledge. 

Motivation is something that is both innate and foreign to Bokuto. His relationship with volleyball wasn’t a love-at-first sight like Hinata or Atsumu. It was something he enjoyed, relatively, and was good at, comparatively. His teammates were fun, people cheered for him--he liked that a lot. When Yukie would tell him that someone called him ‘cool’ from the bleachers, oh it was a spark. It wasn’t until much later in high-school that Bokuto felt a jolt of pure, unadulterated excitement from simply playing volleyball. The sensation of the hard work he put in manifesting itself as straights was undeniably addicting. Day and night, he would crave the texture of the leather against his fingers. It was then that Bokuto came to the realization that his life was inherently tied so closely with volleyball, he could not imagine himself doing anything else anymore. Between eat, sleep, and other entertainment, volleyball would be his first choice. It’s an obsessive mentality that’s required first and foremost before going pro. Bokuto had to dig deep within himself to find that strength for self-discipline and motivation. 

\-----

Many of the athletes in the room are quite a bit older. Seasoned already in the university league. They even have a university degree. Both athletic and smart. Bokuto can hear some whispers and questions. “A high school student?” “How long has he been playing?” “Oh a top five ace?” “I saw his match, those mood swings...what was Coach thinking?” 

He’s alone now, and it’s going to be from square one. There’s no Akaashi helping him out. No Fukurodani bunch to motivate him. You’re gone too. However, it’s going to be okay. He promised everyone he’ll be okay. He confidently declared to everyone, “Watch me!” So, there’s no turning back. If there’s anything he knows for certain, it’s that sincerity is something that can get him anywhere. That’s what he was taught. He has his passion and energy. Bokuto bows to his new seniors and greets them exuberantly. “Hello! My name is Bokuto Koutarou! I’m an outside hitter and just graduated from Fukurodani Academy. Nice to meet you, I’ll be in your care!”

The first practice goes by okay. It’s a bit awkward and filled with introductions after introductions. Each of the recruits and athletes have their own background and quirks. Many even knew each other from university days. By the end of the first week, Bokuto finds himself waking up sore each day. It’s as if he just started playing volleyball. A little chick just ruffling his feathers and unable to fly. There really is no coddling for him here. No mother waking him up in the morning. No sibling nudging him out of the nest. No friend walking with him to school. The assistant coaches are very strict. Coach Foster, especially. At the end of the second month, Bokuto oversleeps, just barely. It would be the first and last time. Coach Foster is ruthless. “If you want to sleep, go ahead. There’s no need to show up for practice. The door is right there.” 

Bokuto doesn’t complain. He carries with him Fukurodani’s motto. Pour all your soul into each ball. It’s the discipline that keeps him going. So he’ll keep going. There’s no turning back. The only way is up. Higher and farther. 

“Let me see the world from above,” he demands. “Show me that view.” 

\-----

“What happened out there?” Atsumu demands, slamming the locker shut. The loud noise captures everyone’s attention. Bokuto stops in the middle of changing and stares at Atsumu blankly. 

“Do you have a problem with my toss today or something?” Atsumu confronts, taking a step towards Bokuto. “Distracted by that little crush of yours, hm? How did you even get shut out three times today?! And your receives and blocks are even shittier.” 

“Atsumu,” Tomas warns, putting a hand on Atsumu’s shoulder. 

Hinata looks at Bokuto, concerned. Bokuto doesn't respond to Atsumu’s claims and continues changing out of his jersey. He takes each thorn thrown at him without a fight. Bokuto is as disappointed with himself as Atsumu is angry with him. He would not call his own performance today remotely acceptable. And it seemed like the more he tried to get things under control, the less his body would listen.

“Atsumu, today’s just an off-day,” Hinata cuts into the silence. “We still won in the end! And Bokuto did make that straight shot today too!” 

Atsumu shakes of Tomas’s hand and continues organizing his gym bag. The outburst from a few moments ago seems to have settled down. Sakusa, the fastest to switch out of his jersey and hop in the shower, comes out. He roughly dries his hair with a towel and goes to his locker station.

“Bokuto, is it your shoulder not feeling well today? You should be more careful. I had a senior, also played outside hitter, when I was in university who suffered an injury before. The season isn’t over yet and we still have World’s coming up. You should be more-”

“I don’t think I need to hear that from you,” Bokuto cuts off sharply. It’s unknown if the anger is directed solely at Sakusa, or if Sakusa is simply the unlucky one to be the last straw after Atsumu’s pressure just earlier.

Sakusa is taken back. “Did I say anything wrong? As an athlete you should be looking after your health. If you are not performing your peak, it just hurts the team overall. We’re both outside hitters, that means we’re the primary offense. If you can’t attack properly, what’s the point.”

“Sakusa, no need to say that,” Hinata tries convincing, before turning to Bokuto. “Bokuto, Sakusa’s word choice isn’t the best, but he’s just concerned about you. Hey! He’s just like that, you know, when I first joined he HAD to remind me of when I got sick during nationals, and-”

“Oh I know, Hinata. Of course the MVP would know best.” Bokuto spits out, slamming the locker shut. Sakusa’s face turns dark as the rest of the teammates are stunned by the amount of spite in Bokuto’s words. Intentional and sharp. Bokuto grabs his towel and heads off to the showers. Before leaving the locker area, he stops and says in a low voice, “Sorry. That was uncalled for.” 

Some footsteps shuffle behind him. It sounds like Hinata and Tomas. In his own stall, Bokuto turns on the water. Were you watching tonight too? The unforgivable blunder at the beginning. The blocked shots leading to a bumpy opening. Did you see all that too? He reaches for the shampoo bottle. Damn it, he left it in his bag. No point going out to get it. He’ll have to see his teammates. He knows he overreacted back there. Bokuto decides he’ll have to apologize to Sakusa afterwards. Atsumu? Nah. Bokuto didn’t lash out at him. 

“Tomas, is that you over there?” Hinata calls from his stall. 

“Yup,” Tomas answers. 

“We’re going back to Osaka tomorrow, huh?” 

“That’s right, you sound excited. Got plans?” 

“I do! A couple of us are heading to Y/N’s housewarming in a few days,” Hinata exclaims excitedly.

“Oh, I forgot about that. I already made plans, but I’m sure you guys will all have fun,” Tomas answers. He replies a bit louder than necessary. It’s for someone else to also hear. “Let me know how it goes.” 

Bokuto’s ears pick up Tomas and Hinata’s conversation. He snorts to himself. He knows what the two are up to. The corner of his mouth curves up just slightly. Whatever it is that Tomas and Hinata intend for, it seems to be working.

“Definitely! Ah, Tomas, do you have shampoo?” Hinata asks. “I think I left it in the locker.” 

“Sure, I’ll pass it to you.” Tomas extends a hand past the stall to hand a bottle to Hinata. 

Bokuto sighs. “Oy, give me some too.” 

“What’s that?” Tomas asks, amused. 

“Shampoo. I need some too.” 

Hinata laughs and passes the bottle a stall over. “Here you go, Bokuto!” 

A shower really helped Bokuto alleviate both his muscle aches and also clear his head. He apologizes to Sakusa for lashing out. Atsumu mumbles an apology to Bokuto too. At the end of the day, the athletes, who are both colleagues and also brothers, are still in the same team. After getting dressed, Bokuto takes his bag and stuff from the lockers and takes a seat on the bench outside. Meian and the Coach are still finishing up some PR interviews and other business. Being the captain of a V.League team is quite different from a high school team. As the captain for Fukurodani, he had quite a few responsibilities too. He had to attend the occasional student council meeting, which you reminded and dragged him to. He had to unlock the gym and to his own surprise, he actually never lost the key. Homework, gym clothes, shoes? He lost them more times than he could count. But the keys to the gym? Not once. Perhaps it’s due to his one year’s worth of captain-hood that Bokuto really looks up to Meian. And truly, Meian fits the captain role so well. Perhaps one day Bokuto can also have the same perfect ratio of fun, calm, and charisma. He certainly hopes so. Bokuto’s phone vibrates in his pocket. The caller id is Akaashi Keiji. 

“What’s up,” Bokuto answers. 

“Hi Bokuto,” Akaashi replies. “How are you.” 

“Good, just finished a match.” 

“Yes, I saw,” Akaashi pauses for a bit. “Is everything okay? Your flow seemed off today. But I did see that straight...right on the line, not bad.” 

Bokuto laughs. “That obvious huh?” 

“Only because I know you well enough, Bokuto.” 

Akaashi always knew everything about him. Saw through him like a transparent textbook. Every move, every antic, every mistake. 

“Don’t worry too much. Off days happen. Even monkeys fall out of trees,” Akaashi jokes.

“Say, Akaashi,” Bokuto muses. “What’s university like, did you enjoy your time there more than Fukurodani?” 

“Bokuto-”

“I’m curious you know. It’s not something I’ve experienced, so I’m not sure what it’s like. I know your dorms were pretty shabby, but the cafeteria was good, and the library was nice.”

“Well, the whole experience varies greatly from one department to another…”

“I know, sometimes I just wonder that’s all. Most of them played in the university league, you know. Some days I wonder if I should have done that or something.” 

Akaashi pauses, unsure of what to say. Akaashi knows that both himself and you hoped that Bokuto would be at a level where a university team would be able to offer Bokuto a sports scholarship. Didn’t happen very often, but if Bokuto met decent minimums, he had a fair shot. Not that it matters anymore. Bokuto ended up getting scouted for a pro team straight from high school.

“Hey! Speaking of straights, do you still remember practicing together for it?” Bokuto laughs. 

“Of course I would,” Akaashi answers. “I don’t think we’ve stayed in the gym as long as that night.”

\---

“Bokuto, are we going to go soon?” Akaashi asks, tossing another ball for Bokuto to spike. 

“Not yet, I still have ways to go,” Bokuto goes to grab another ball from the cart. The cart is empty already. 

“Never again,” Bokuto states firmly. “I’m not letting them shut out my blocks again. Next time. Next time, I’ll defeat them with my straights.”

You’re on the way home after a long day of paperwork. When you pass by the gym, you notice the doors and lights still on. Bokuto’s loud voice can easily be heard. Of course he would be practicing with Akaashi still. You pay them a visit. “Well, well, look at what we have here.” 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto waves his arms to greet you. 

“Still practicing?” You set your bag down. “Didn’t you all just have a game?” 

“Yea, but Bokuto wants to practice straights because his cross-shots all got blocked today.” Akaashi explains.

“Oh. It’s getting late though, I was actually about to head home and heard noises here.”

“Do you want to call it a day, Bokuto?” Akaashi asks. 

Bokuto furiously shakes his head. “One more cart. I can feel I’m getting close.”

You pick up a ball that’s by your feet. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, Bokuto. One more cart, that’s it. You’ll overwork yourself. And Akaashi’s getting tired too.” 

“I won’t! Just one more cart, I promise!” Bokuto exclaims, rushing over to help pick up the volleyballs scattered around the gym. “Akaashi?” 

Akaashi smiles and sighs, coming over to help as well. “One cart then.” 

You sit off to the side and begin to work on your schoolwork. Occasionally, Bokuto catches you distracted from your work and looking at him and Akaashi practice. It’s really nice and Bokuto feels his jumps becoming lighter. Before the cart becomes empty, Bokuto Koutarou finds himself able to perform straights a bit more accurately. 7/10 times on or in the line. Of course more practice will be needed. Still, the next time Fukurodani faces that school again, Bokuto is ready to show them something new. 

\---

“Stumble seven times, but recover eight times,” Akaashi remarks.

“Rome wasn't built in a day,” Bokuto says. “I know.”

“Rome wasn’t built in a day,” Akaashi affirms. “You got this, Bokuto.” 

“Thanks, Akaashi. You always know what to say,” Bokuto chuckles. “I’ll be in Tokyo around Valentine’s, you got time? I know Kuroo said he’s going to clear his schedule.” 

“Yea, I think that’ll work out. I’ll look up my schedule again.” 

“Okay. Later then.”

“Bye Bokuto.” 

Bokuto ends the call and sees a text sent by you.

_“Congrats on another win! Eat well afterwards and rest well… safe travels too! And see you soon!”_

So either you didn’t notice his blunders at all. Maybe you still don’t fully know how to analyze a match. Or maybe you’re just not mentioning it at all. Regardless, your message only brings warmth and fuzzies to Bokuto. The dull ache in his shoulder fades away in an instant. He can’t wait to be back in Osaka soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> •"Even monkeys fall from trees" (猿も木から落ちる) is a Japanese proverb meaning that even the skilled/masters can have blunders at times. Literally, 'anyone can make mistakes'.  
> •"Stumble seven times, but recover eight times" (七転び八起き) is another proverb meaning that perseverance triumphs over defeat. Karasuno after first Seijoh defeat, anyone? 😊


	25. The Events of Housewarming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto and his team are back in Osaka again in time for the housewarming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies,  
> I know it's been a little while since the last update, so thank you all for your patience! ❤ FYI I updated the tags, minor changes only.

Is it a normal thing to plan fervently for an important project, a significant event, well in advance? Perhaps one believes, “Nah, there’ll be time. Look how early I’m brainstorming.” What ends up happening is that everything gets put off and one is left wondering, “I thought I had a lot of time? What happened?” 

Procrastination happened. 

“All settled in Osaka and forgetting Tokyo hm?” your mother quips.

“Ma, I’m still calling, aren’t I?” you retort back, angrily mopping the floor. 

It’s today. Housewarming. You knew it’s going to be today. You convinced yourself to clean last week. You promised you would clean last night, but the bed was so comfy. You planned to wake up early, but the bed was so warm this morning. So here you are, past noon, on a time crunch. 

“You got a point,” she laughs on the other side. “So why are you calling?” 

“So, I’m hosting a housewarming party today.” 

“Okay?” 

“Um, do you think I’ll have enough food? There are four athletes,” you count off. “And me. So currently, I’m thinking of something along the lines of miso soup, potato salad, some quick-pickled vegetables, teriyaki chicken thighs, rice, and maybe fruits or something after.” 

“Did you say you’re hosting? Today?” 

Oh the judgment in her voice. 

“I woke up late okay, I’m basically thinking of ordering take-out,” you confess. “Hence why I’m calling? Please help? Will it be enough?” 

“If you portion them all correctly, then yeah,” she replies. “Did you say, athletes? Bokuto?”

“Mhm.” You trash the wet sheet on the mop. You’re onto wiping the surfaces. 

“That’s nice, he helped you a lot right? This is the least you should do. Hey, you know I saw his mother at the market the other day. I swear that woman never ages, why is she so refreshed-looking? And after three kids too! Now look at your own poor mother.”

If you don’t cut her off immediately, she’ll go on and on forever. 

“MA! Off-topic,” you pull her attention back. “I don’t even know where to start. If you’re going to rant, just put Dad on the phone or something.” 

“Okay, okay! I’m just getting to it. Cook the rice first, the cooker will keep warm. Have you washed and sliced all the vegetables for the potato salad and pickles? Got to do that first. It’ll take time. Is the chicken frozen? Better thaw it if, if it isn’t already, and-”

“Wait! Let me write this down,” you frantically look for a scrap of paper and take notes. 

“This is easy stuff! Just remember it!” 

“For you,” you mutter, scribbling notes onto the paper. The pen doesn’t work. You grab another one. “Ok. Rice first. Then vegetable prep-”

“Make sure the chicken is thawed,” she interjects. “Are you going to be okay? How did you survive until now?” 

“Not now, Mom,” you snap back. You scoop out two cups of rice. That’s not enough. How much do they eat? Let’s just add three more cups. “Chicken is thawed and one-pot survival meals are different.” 

“I would love to stay on the phone with ya, but your dad and I are going out.” 

“No, no, no. Final question, how do you work that chicken you or Dad would make? How much marinade again?”

No response. 

“Mom?” 

“Your mom left already,” Dad answers instead. “Just remember the ratio is one each for sake, mirin, and soy sauce.” 

“Okay, so I’m going to make nine of these chicken thighs, how much-” 

“Nine?” he exclaims. “How many people are you having over?” 

“Um four athletes?” you answer cautiously. “Seconds just in-case? I can have the leftovers?” 

“You have that oven now, right? Use that instead of the pan, else you’ll take forever.” 

“Mhm, and then-”

“Just google it, sorry kiddo, we’re leaving.” 

“But-” You attempt in vain.

“Love ya, bye sweetheart.” 

_ Beep.  _

You groan. Time to google this. Resourceful adulting right? Yea, you got this. Some music, maybe turn the TV on, it’s all under control. The TV is turned on and you get back to chopping the vegetables. It’s going well! Definitely. Under. Control. 

_ “Crispy. Tender. Juicy.”  _

You look at the TV and nearly slice your finger off. Is this that chicken commercial Hana told you about? 

_ “Wings.”  _

A slow-mo of Bokuto’s spike is shown. The lighting over his flexed arm gives an intense contrast normally not seen. He’s in a sleeveless compression top too for ultimate emphasis. You haphazardly chop the green onion once more. 

_ “Breast.”  _

Pano of his chest. The shirt doesn’t cover up the broadness and thickness. What the fuck. They’re huge. That’s just illegal. You feel almost guilty at staring at this publicly broadcasted commercial, practically feasting on the man’s body. Is this a commercial for chicken or Bokuto? What in the world are brand marketers thinking of these days.

_ “Thighs.”  _

No. Okay. Off. Your unsteady hands fumble for the remote. More pieces of chicken fall slow motion into the bucket. Bokuto takes a satisfying, crunchy bite out of a drumstick. You manage to turn the TV off.

“Get a grip, get a grip, get a grip,” you mutter to yourself. “Clean thoughts only. We got lots of work to do.” 

Evidently, today isn’t going to be an easy day. You continue to berate yourself for having the audacity to sleep in. Today of all days. 

_ Ding.  _

You check the camera, it’s Bokuto. It’s Bokuto. You touch your cheeks, they’re still super hot and flustered. Stupidly, you decide to wet your hands and cool down your face. That’s when hell happens. 

The residue from the onion comes in like a wave. Your eyes are forced shut. Any rapid blinking only makes the waterworks worse.

“Hey! Hope you don’t mind me coming a bit early! Thought maybe I could help out!” Bokuto calls from behind the door. 

You curse under your breath. With a comparable struggle to turn the TV off, you get to the door and swing it open. Your face is half-buried in a tissue. 

“Lookey here! I brought a fruits basket!” Bokuto exclaims delightfully. 

Who at your age still brings fruit baskets for house visits? That’s so old school. Granny must have told him to. Cute. You want to laugh and thank him, but your eyes are stinging again.

“Come in,” you sniffle. “The kitchen’s a mess though.” 

Bokuto steps inside and takes off his shoes. 

“Wait, what happened?” he asks carefully. “What’s wrong?” 

You shake your head furiously and remove the tissue to tell him that it’s just the onions. The blurry image of Bokuto you see immediately sends the cursed commercial into your mind. You manage to choke on your own spit.

Bokuto grabs a tissue, pats your shoulder, and rubs comforting circles across your back. “Shhhh,” he coaxes in whispers. “Don’t rush yourself. L-Let’s go sit down over there.” 

You shake your head again, this time gaining some more composure despite the tears still coming. “Onions!” you shout out. 

Bokuto takes a closer look at you and at the mess of a kitchen counter. After putting the two together, he bursts out laughing. Because you are so close to him, you can almost feel his chest vibrating with the laughter. 

“I was...really worried for a moment,” Bokuto wheezes out in between laughs. “That’s really funny! Can I help with anything?”

You laugh at your own misery and dab your eyes with the tissue for the last time, confirming that you’re fully okay. “Yes please, I don’t want to touch the cutting board anymore.”

Bokuto surveys scene one more. The countertop madness, the scribble of your notes.  _ “How cute,” _ he thinks to himself. He smiles fondly at your struggle again while washing his hands before getting to work. You tell him a general idea of what you’re thinking about making.

“Also did you say ‘potato salad’?” Bokuto asks. “I looked earlier and-”

“Should be in the fridge. I still need to peel and boil it,” you answer. You open the fridge door and rummage through the contents. “I don’t have potatoes…”

“Yea, that’s what I thought too,” Bokuto replies, finishing up chopping the rest of the vegetables. “Anything else missing?” 

You take a quick inventory of the ingredients. “Nope, think everything else is good. Let me just throw the chicken in a marinade then maybe head out to the store.” 

With Bokuto’s help, the majority of prep work gets finished. The marinade is chilling in the fridge. The cucumbers are currently being pickled. Eggs are boiled. Other vegetables are chopped and steamed. Now to rush out and get the potatoes.

The grocery store is just a quick walk away. This neighborhood is your home turf, so you lead Bokuto through the streets. However, freshly discovered feelings and a peaceful environment only make each turn identical and confusing. It’s times like now when you aren’t in the midst of a kitchen-battle that you suddenly have this sensitivity to all the small things going on. The pavement, the weeds, and the minty smell of salonpas from Bokuto. 

Along the way, you tell Bokuto the shops you’ve visited already. You point out the local bakeries, family restaurants, and other small businesses. Rambling is a way of filling awkward silences when you’re nervous. Does Bokuto really want to hear how the bakery has special croquettes on Wednesdays? Or how the fresh egg delivery truck comes by on Saturday morning? How last week some kids hacked the gumball machine and caused a huge ruckus? 

What you may not know is that, in fact, he does. Very much so. Bokuto listens eagerly, happily noting which ones you provide highly positive reviews of. How your voice sparkles at mentioning your favorite pastry. Or the way your features twitch slightly when you talk about ordering something that ended up tasting like a disappointment. The area really seems like your home now. He realizes that during the time he is away, you’ve been making your own explorations and discoveries. Bokuto knows that usually, he’s the talkative one. But hearing you ramble on and on is such a wonderful experience. For however long you are able to keep talking, Bokuto believes he can continue listening. 

“So you’ll be in Tokyo for the whole week?” you ask, finding it a necessity to talk more about Bokuto. Jun asked if you planned on giving Bokuto special chocolates and you already told them you decided not to. At least not this year. 

You want to laugh at yourself.  _ At least  _ makes it seem like the feelings won’t change next year. Although you do believe your feelings really won’t be budging anytime soon, a bit more time would be good. And besides, Bokuto isn’t even going to be around that week. 

“Yea, the association is doing this sort of Valentine’s fundraiser event of sorts,” Bokuto answers.

The two of you enter the small grocery store. 

“I see.” You browse the shelves absentmindedly. What are you here for again? “You’ll all get a lot of chocolates and stuff then.”

“Something like that!” Bokuto laughs, following after you. “Um, I think the potatoes are over there.” He points at the produce section on the opposite side of the store. 

Potatoes. Right, that’s what you’re here for. You briskly walk over towards where Bokuto was pointing. 

“Is your company doing any activities?” Bokuto asks, easily catching up with your strides.

You pick out a few potatoes and prepare to head to the register.

_ “Are there any special chocolates you’re giving someone,”  _ Bokuto wants to ask. The words remain jumbled between his teeth. 

“Huh? Oh no!” You immediately reply. “None at all.”

It’s not an answer to the question that Bokuto did not have the guts to ask. But it still weirdly reassured him. Even if he doesn’t get anything. At least perhaps no one else will. Is that a petty thing to think? 

_ “Is he mentioning chocolates _ ,” you think to yourself. Should you have to give Bokuto special chocolates, you believe you’ll perish on the spot. But if you still want to give him something, what can you do? Something that will not exactly be a romantic confession, but also not a fast-pass to friendzone. Vague enough. Ambiguous enough. 

Your eyes light up. “Can you bring these to the cash register? I’ll meet you there in a sec.” 

You shove the potatoes into Bokuto’s hands and rush off to a different part of the shop. You glance at the store selections and hurriedly pick one that’s the most familiar. Bokuto’s at the register already. You put down the chocolate ice cream bar and take out a few bills. Bokuto raises an eyebrow and you only give a cheeky smile in return. 

The potatoes go into the canvas bag and the two of you exit the shop and walk back to your place. You hold the ice cream out to Bokuto.

“Early Valentine’s chocolate,” you mumble. You don’t elaborate further.

Bokuto doesn’t make a move to take the bar and you’re beginning to think of the reasons why. You didn’t even say anything yet, are you rejected? Is this going to get awkward?

“But what about you?” he finally asks. “You should’ve gotten one too.”

“It’s okay, haha. Not for me today,” you explain. You then bravely add, “a bit different than boxed chocolates you normally get, right?”

Bokuto laughs. 

“A bit different indeed, thank you,” he admits. Bokuto mentally adds,  _ “different because it’s from you.” _

The formula of the sweet did not change. Nothing about it is different. However, to Bokuto, each bite is like ambrosia. How can cheap ice cream possibly taste this good? He’s not brave enough to ask if the chocolate means anything along the lines of what he hopes for. If not, then he’ll be heartbroken. But, just on the chance, what if. What if the chocolate ice cream is exactly what he hopes it to be? Bokuto didn’t even think about the possibility of that until now. What then? What should he do?

The walk back to your place is fast and silent. Bokuto finishes his bar while his thoughts are in disarray. You try to find something to talk about, but end up not saying anything. Like so, the two of you end up back in your kitchen working again. At least now there’s more stuff to keep the mind busy with.

The minute hands turn around the clock. The other three guests might be showing up soon. The other dishes are basically ready. The rice is done, fluffed, and just keeping warm. The oven is now pre-heated and the chicken needs to be put onto the baking tray. Everything fully on schedule. 

“Where’s the baking tray?” Bokuto calls from the kitchen. 

You’re in your room changing out of your lounge-wear into some slightly nicer clothes before the other guests come.

“Second cabinet, top shelf,” you yell back. It’s there since you don’t use it very often. And no doubt Bokuto has zero trouble getting to it either. 

You are about to exit your room when you hear a loud clatter and shatter in the kitchen. When you rush back to the kitchen, you find Bokuto picking up the fallen baking tray and a few other items that are knocked over. 

“I’m sorry,” Bokuto sighs. “I’m so clumsy.” 

“No, don’t worry about it. Are you okay?” you ask, checking him. Did he get hit by the tray falling? “Are you hurt anywhere? Don’t worry about this stuff.” 

You prepare to get up and clean up the dropped items until you feel a tug on your wrist. Your attention turns back to Bokuto. He looks crestfallen. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it, nothing’s broken,” you comfort him. 

“Actually, there’s that one glass lid.” He points off to the side. “Sorry about that.” 

“That’s fine, I’ll get that cleaned up.” You check him again. “You’re not hurt, right?” 

Bokuto shakes his head to your relief. 

“Can I? Um, hug you?” he asks abruptly. 

“What?” Did you hear that correctly? “I’ll go clean up.” 

“Just for a moment,” he asks again. 

“Oh, yea okay,” you respond automatically. It’s not the intimacy that makes you nervous. It’s Bokuto’s voice that worries you above all else. 

Two arms quickly encircle and envelop you closer to him. With your head nestled against his chest, you can hear the rhythmic pulsation of his heartbeat. It’s the first time you’re hearing it. If there’s only one sound you can hear for the rest of your life, let this be it. 

A moment later, Bokuto lets go. A bit too soon.

“Is there something on your mind lately?” you ask. 

“I’ve been thinking of something lately,” Bokuto begins. “Volleyball is really my life.”

“I know.” If not volleyball for Bokuto then what else?

“What happens if one day I can’t play anymore?” His eyes plead at your own. 

“What do you mean?” Your concern is piling exponentially by the second.

Bokuto is definitely hiding something. This strange expression of his, you’ve seen it before once. Now twice. Twice too many.

Bokuto shrugs. “Nothing, it’s just a thought. I was thinking about that before I came over.” 

The doorbell interrupts. You keep your eyes on Bokuto as you move towards the front door. You see it’s Sakusa. You give Bokuto one more glance before opening the door. He’s already cleaning up the broken shards. You’ll have to ask him some other time.

“Sakusa, welcome! Please come in,” you greet, opening the door wider for the curly-haired athlete. “Hope it wasn’t troublesome to find the place.” 

Out of all the guests tonight, Sakusa is the only one who hasn’t actually come over before. Bokuto told you that Sakusa is usually not one for socials or entertainment at all, so the fact that he agreed to come, and actually carried it out is something you have high regards for. Which results in extra cleaning. Last-minute, obviously, but still extra enough. 

“It’s a very nice place that you have,” Sakusa compliments. He holds a paper bag towards you. “A small token, I hope it will liven up the space as well.” 

“Oh gosh,” you accept the gift. Candles. “Thank you, please come in and feel at home. Is there anything I can get you to drink in the meantime?” 

“I’m good, thanks.” Sakusa spots another pair of shoes in the corner. “Is Bokuto here already?” 

“I’m in the kitchen,” Bokuto calls from down the hall. 

“And you heard him.” You smile and point a thumb towards Bokuto’s direction. You check to find that Bokuto looks to be okay now. The fallen items are picked up. The glass pieces are cleaned up. 

You find Sakusa perusing your bookshelves. “Do you read often, Sakusa?” 

“Usually off-season now,” Sakusa answers. “I actually studied literature at university as well.” 

“Oh! That’s incredible, and you were part of the volleyball team too,” you exclaim, excited about Sakusa’s background. “Wow, that’s some time management you’ve got, just the major itself was enough to drain me. I don’t know how you managed at all.” 

A quiet laugh escapes from Sakusa. “I definitely relied on a fair share of study guides and bullshitting.” 

You promptly burst out laughing. “Right? Right?! Sometimes you just can’t finish the entire thing. Only the other literature students would understand, but we are too prideful to be admitting that to anyone else.” 

Sakusa chuckles. “Precisely.” 

“Oy, kitchen stuff isn’t done yet!” Bokuto calls you back to the kitchen. 

“Go ahead,” Sakusa gestures towards the kitchen. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to look through your books a bit more.”

“Of course,” you nod enthusiastically. “If you see anything interesting, just let me know.” 

What else still needs to be done in the kitchen? Food’s all ready. Chicken is in the oven. Well the glazing, perhaps. But not now. 

“I think everything’s prepped now.”

“Nuh-uh.” Bokuto brings over the fruit basket he brought over. It was sort of left in the corner because earlier you were crying over green onions...and then things got too busy. “This still needs to be washed and sliced up for after dinner. You said so on your list.” 

You take a look at the now soggy (and also ripped in half, don’t ask) receipt scrap. Yea, you did write  _ “sliced fruit”  _ on it. It can totally be done later, though, but if Bokuto insists to do it now, you suppose it is just one less thing to worry about. 

You begin to wash and peel the pears and peaches. Bokuto picked a basket with really nice ones. The fruits are large and at their optimal ripeness. You notice that Sakusa has also wandered into the kitchen. 

“Anything I can with?” he asks. 

“No, go sit down,” Bokuto answers. 

“Nah, I think we’re good,” you answer at the same time. 

Sakusa blinks. “Okay, what about the table?” 

“Oh!” you exclaim. “Actually, yea, it needs to be set. Sakusa can you help with that?” 

“I’ll-” Bokuto begins to answer. 

Sakusa ignores Bokuto and goes to the cabinet you gestured to. You nudge Bokuto to continue peeling the fruits. At around this time, the doorbell chimes again. You rinse and wipe your hands before heading off to get the door. 

“Surprise, surprise!” It’s Atsumu and Hinata arriving at the same time. They see the shoes already at the corner. 

“Dang, we’re last,” Hinata observes. 

“Shoyo, it’s you,” Atsumu laughs. “I got to the front door first. You just saw and chased after me.” 

“I got here really early, but I got lost!” Hinata pouts. 

“Well, at least both of you are here now,” you reply cheerfully. 

“Thanks for inviting us,” Hinata presents you with a small bouquet of flowers. “I just picked a random one out, not sure if you’ll like it.” 

Atsumu also hands you a small package, coffee. You take both gifts graciously. “Aww, thank you two so much for coming! And also helping me move in. Let’s go in, food’s almost ready.” 

While you were greeting the last two guests, Sakusa finished setting the table. The plates don’t match because you live alone, but so what? Bokuto finished the half sliced pear you were working on. 

“Hey!” Bokuto greets Atsumu and Hinata. 

“AH!! Pears! My favorite!” Hinata cries, rushing over to get a piece. 

“Wash your damn hands,” Sakusa warns.

You let Hinata wash his hands first before filling up a vase with some water to put the flowers in. Lovely. The flowers add another touch to the table that Sakusa set earlier. Atsumu and Hinata help move the serving platters over. On cue, the oven timer also goes off. Bokuto and Sakusa take the tray of the main dish out. You brush on the final layer of some sauce and sprinkle on the toasted sesame seeds. 

Dinner is served. 

“Thank you for the meal! Time to eat,” everyone chimes before digging in.

“Wow this is so good,” Hinata compliments. He tears through the chicken quickly. 

“Hey Bokkun,” Atsumu calls out. “You know that one chicken commercial you did for a sponsor?” 

Bokuto breaks out into laughs. “You mean the one that went like  _ ‘Wings’, ‘Breast’, ‘Thighs’ _ .” He imitates the dramatic voice in the commercial. 

You feel your face flushing again. That dreaded commercial. But Bokuto’s dramatic parody is both adorable and endearing. You burst out laughing with the athletes a second later, forgetting any embarrassment. 

“Yea! Yea! Yea! That one!” Hinata chimes in. “Man! I want to shoot a commercial like that, it’ll be so cool!” 

Atsumu snorts. “Did you see Kageyama’s rice commercial? Talk about LAMEEE.” 

“Kageyama isn’t lame,” Hinata argues. “You are!” 

“I have a lot of commercials, okay,” Atsumu brags. “Menswear, watches, air conditioners. I even did one for a rideshare app!” 

“Did you shoot any commercials, Sakusa?” you ask, including the quiet athlete into the conversation.

Atsumu and Hinata snickers. 

“I did a whiskey commercial last year,” Sakusa explains. “But I don’t drink.”

“Why did you even do the commercial?” Bokuto asks. 

“It was a lot of money on the table,” he shrugs. 

The meal continues on smoothly. All of you enjoy each other’s company easily and the night goes by. The four athletes also catch up on the upcoming season. It’s mostly Hinata doing the chitchatting, though. 

“Aren’t all of you in the national team? All of you will be in Tokyo for the fundraiser.” 

Hinata nods, “yup! It’s going to be my first public entrance as a member of the team too!” 

“Oh congrats! I’m sure you’ll have tons of fans in no time, Hinata!” 

“Keh,” Atsumu grumbles. “Ya better not be trying to convert my fans into yours Shoyo. I’ll never toss to you again if you do.” 

Hinata pouts, “Stupid Tsumu! That’s so petty! Maybe you won’t even get picked as a setter for Worlds hmph.” 

Sakusa snorts. 

It’s Atsumu’s turn to pout. “Hinata, that’s a really low blow.” 

“How are the teams chosen for a competition?” you ask. “I thought you were all in the team already?” 

“We are,” Bokuto confirms. “But that’s just as a nationally ranked and leveled athlete.” 

“So, depending on which international and domestic tournaments there are, the team distribution and roster might change.” Sakusa finishes. 

“And usually the V.League tournaments are a good way for them to observe and compare individual performance,” Atsumu adds. “Since our team has quite a few in the national team, it’s pretty much on radar.” 

“Oh.” You digest the information. “That makes sense. Just means you guys got to keep doing what you’re doing, then! You are all amazing this season!”

“Because we have you cheering for us,” Hinata beams. “Can I get seconds?”

You laugh. “Of course!” You pick up Hinata’s plate. “Anyone else?” 

“Me,” everyone else also echoes.

When the boys all finally leave. You get the place back to yourself. Never again will you do these hostings without good reason, good timing, and good support. You shudder at the thought of Bokuto not coming early enough today to help out. You really would end up getting take-out and just plating them as your own. 

The space is so quiet now. The kitchen, empty. The full trash bin is the only indicator of the night. You should just wash up and go to bed. It’s been a very long day. You rummage through the drawers for clothes. Off to the corner, neatly folded, is the  _ Wisdom of Ace  _ shirt you got from Bokuto. You take it out. The soft fabric unfolds itself. Curiously, you hold it up against your figure in the mirror. Truthfully, it would be really comfortable to wear to sleep….

Absolutely not. 

That’s just a bit too creepy. You suppose that it’s technically your shirt now, but it was Bokuto’s before. And he’s not your, whatever. You throw the shirt unfolded back into the drawer, grab your usual garments, and head off to get washed up and ready for bed. 

Sleep proves to be difficult tonight. No amount of tossing or turning yields a comfortable position. Ideally, you should just be patient and meditate or something. Realistically, you do the complete opposite by picking up your phone from its charger. Blue light illuminates your face. A text from Hinata, Atsumu, and Sakusa each thanking you for dinner. How sweet of them. And Bokuto too, texted you thanks and how he had a great time.

You reply back to him, intending to attempt to sleep right after sending it out. Bokuto’s next text comes in almost immediately. 

_ “Going to sleep soon?”  _

You reply,  _ “I wish. Can’t sleep…” _

Somehow the two of you end up texting back and forth for a while. At the same time, you feel your eyelids slowly getting heavier and droopier. It soon becomes a struggle to keep them open. You use the last bit of your rationale to remind yourself that this isn’t a dream, so don’t text anything stupid you’ll come to regret in the morning. The last thing you remember is seeing that Bokuto sent another couple of texts over. You can’t bother with the contents anymore as sleep fully claims you.

In the morning the next day, you realize that luckily nothing you said...correction, texted, was of particular alarm at all. But the final three texts Bokuto sent are gone. You know for sure Bokuto actually sent those texts and that this is not an idea you conjured up in your dreams because it says so right there on the screen. 

_ Bokuto unsent a message _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> •I couldn't find how the national team is picked so what's explained is purely made up, haha  
> •Random fun fact because there's not much to endnote this chapter: [Japan celebrates Christmas with KFC ](https://www.bbc.com/worklife/article/20161216-why-japan-celebrates-christmas-with-kfc)  
> •Regardless of what you do or don't celebrate, I wish everyone a ton of good food, good health, and warm fuzzies  
> •Sample Recipes of what they probably made:  
> •[Potato Salad ](https://www.justonecookbook.com/japanese-potato-salad/)  
> •[Quick-Pickling (Asazuke)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asazuke)\- the salt draws out the moisture for some more crunch and to add some flavor. I personally really like this with cucumbers!  
> Japanese Whiskey really made a name for itself away from the traditional Whiskey people normally think of. It has gained a lot of recognition and prestige on the world liquor stage. Suntory and Nikka are the most well known. Suntory actually sponsors a real Vleague team called Suntory Sunbirds. I think that in the Haikyuuverse, Tachibana Red Falcons (with Aran and Gao) is inspired by this team. Because the mascot for Sunbirds is a red bird~ (In that regard perhaps Sakusa was brand ambassador for Nikka whiskey? 😂)


	26. Tokyo Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Tokyo reunion that starts on the wrong foot and ends even worse than imagined.

Bokuto checks the collar of his shirt one last time before following his teammates into the room. It should be specified that “teammate” here doesn’t refer to the MSBY Black Jackals. Sakusa, Hinata, and Atsumu are with him, but there are also many others. 

“It’s been a while since the whole National Team is gathered here,” a PR director exclaims. “Great sight to see. The season this year is amazing! I’m really glad you could all make it today.” 

Each of the athletes takes a seat at the long table. Fans with gifts crowd on the sidelines behind a “do-not-cross” line. Reporters take the bulk of the space in the hall. It’s rowdy, messy, and the flashing lights are blinding. Hinata can feel Sakusa shifting uncomfortably next to him. 

“Hey, there’s quite a few players I don’t recognize,” Hinata whispers to Sakusa, trying to get the latter to focus on something else. 

“Hm. It seems like there are quite a few young players,” Sakusa replies. “They recently recruited a current university student again.” 

At this time, the reports are asking Ushijima a few questions, and also Suna, who was recently scouted for the team. It came as a real surprise, so the reports are directing plenty of questions towards the middle-blocker.

Bokuto’s ears perk up. “For real? Wow, they’re just getting younger and younger now. Kageyama and Ushijima were both scouted soon after high-school too.” 

Atsumu also chimes in. “Same here, don’t forget about me! But Omi wasn’t, haha.” 

“That’s because you are a setter, and I’m an outside hitter. There are more players in my position than yours,” Sakusa states. “Two years ago, quite a few retired, so we all got picked.”

“Heh, means I’m good. Real good,” Atsumu remarks with a snicker. 

“I have a question for athlete Bokuto,” a reporter suddenly requests. The MSBY athletes divert their attention back to the event. Atsumu and Hinata quiet down. Sakusa’s expression remains calm and unfazed. The mic gets handed over and Bokuto gives a friendly smile. The reporter clears their throat and says, “Athlete Bokuto, you’ve been looking good for the past games, but the last one was a bit of a downer. A couple fans were wondering if you are possibly dealing with an injury this season? If so, can you comment on it?” 

Bokuto’s smile freezes. Suddenly he feels his throat run dry. Each breath, too slow, like sandpaper painfully dragged across tender flesh. The question bursts a bubble in a room. Another report also takes this opportunity to add to the topic. “Athlete Bokuto, can you talk a bit about the set point you missed? It must have been very depressing, how was the-”

“Bokuto over here, I have a question-” 

“Bokuto-”

A loud clap silences the flurry of questions. Sakusa stands up and takes the mic. The screech from the signal silences the murmurs dispersed between the crowd. A couple of people next to the speakers plug their ears. A few reports flip to a fresh page in their notebooks. It’s not every day that Sakusa Kiyoomi decides, unprompted, to take control of the mic. Nothing will be missed. Everything will be documented. Chewed up. Swallowed.

Sakusa continues to wear a polite expression, but his expression is tight and grim. “I believe this event isn’t for discussing details regarding the V.League teams. If there are any specific thoughts, comments, please redirect to the appropriate PR contacts.”

Bullshit. 

Of course V.league questions can be discussed. It’s inherently tied-in with who and what will be on the national team and selected for the starting lineups. However, the way Sakusa so nonchalantly mentions how the topic has veered makes it seem as if the questions asked were truly not appropriate. Sakusa sits back down and pokes Bokuto’s thigh under the table. We got you, Sakusa’s rare touch seems to say. 

The event continues after this hiccup as though it never happened. Hinata gleefully answers questions about himself and his return to Japan. The eager fans continue to shower their favorite athletes with small tokens and gifts. Valentine’s event, after all. Although reluctant, Sakusa accepts a few anyway. 

Later that night, Bokuto meets up with his closest high-school friends, Kuroo Tetsurou and Akaashi Keiji. It’s been a few months since the three last met up, which was at the beginning of the V.League season. It’s much needed, it seems, for the athlete has much to complain and vent about himself, volleyball, and just the arduous life in general.

“Why are they asking me difficult questions!” Bokuto huffs, “off-day, off-day, does the rest of the population not have off-days?!”

Kuroo swirls the drink in his hand. “Hey, don’t mind that. It’s just tabloids and shit. I’ll keep an eye out for ya too.”

“I want to drown my sorrows away,” Bokuto groans, burying his face in his hands. He sighs loudly. 

“You sound like you’re on the edge of becoming an alcoholic now.” Kuroo chuckles and retucks his tie into his shirt pocket. Classic salaryman style. 

“Bokuto, you know you shouldn’t drink anymore,” Akaashi warns. 

“You’re not my mom Akaashi,” Bokuto retorts, squinting his eyes at the former setter. 

“I’m not,” Akaashi agrees, “but let’s look at the facts. One, you already drank enough. Two, you can’t hold your alcohol. Three, you have a match soon, you should take care of yourself.”

“Mhm,” Bokuto hums, nodding in agreement. “Sounds like a good idea, but nah.”

Bokuto makes a fast-grab for the glass next to Kuroo and downs the contents before Kuroo can wrench the glass away from the athlete.

“You dumbass!” Kuroo smacks Bokuto. “I paid for that! If you get drunk, we’re leaving you in a ditch!”

Try reasoning with a man already on the verge of intoxication.

“I’m not drunk!” 

“That’s what they all say,” Akaashi groans. He did not overtime the past few days in hopes of leaving work on time today to deal with this.

Bokuto reaches for the phone in his pocket. The camera automatically detects his face and unlocks the device. Clumsy fingers flip through the contacts. 

“Who are you calling you Big-Owl-Baby.” Kuroo snickers and peers over Bokuto’s shoulder. A wicked grin spreads across Kuroo’s face as he snatches the phone from Bokuto and dials your number.

The line connects. 

“Hey Bokuto,” your voice sounds from the other end. 

“Hi it’s me, Kuroo,” Kuroo greets. He tries very hard to keep his laughter down. Akaashi sits in his seat on the other side of Bokuto, amused. 

“Um, this is Bokuto’s phone right? Everything okay?” 

“He’s good. Very good,” Kuroo answers, glancing at Bokuto. Kuroos puts a hand over the mic and laughs quietly. 

“How cute, you hear that Bokuto? Isn’t that just adorable?” 

Bokuto frowns. Why is your name and ‘adorable’ coming out of the same sentence from Kuroo? Akaashi raises an eyebrow as Kuroo hands the phone over to Bokuto. What exactly does the crafty cat have up his fresh-pressed sleeves? 

“H-hey, hey hey!” Bokuto slurs into the mic.

“Bokuto, you okay? You sound a little…” 

“I’M NOT DRUNK!” Bokuto yells into the phone.

You wince at the loud noise. “Bokuto, is Kuroo there with you? Are you two meeting up? Akaashi, are you there too?” Is there a sober, rational person you can talk to in order to inquire about Bokuto? How in the world did the two let Bokuto get wasted. How much does this big guy have to drink to get this wasted. 

“Don’t wurry ‘bout them. Ya just gotta worry ‘bout me.” 

You sigh and laugh quietly. “I always worry about you Bokuto. Especially now. You’re drunk, dude.”

Bokuto hiccups. “You know how we were chatting?” 

The unsent messages.

Don’t blame anyone Bokuto. If you must, blame yourself for leaving yourself open to questions. “Mhm, go on.”

“Well actually, I sent them on accident. So I had to take them back. I mean it though! I’m not taking back the words.” 

“Taking back what words?” You prompt. “Are they not for me?”

“No no no, it’s for you alright. Always.” 

How can he be this adorable. __

“Okay, I’m listening. What did you want to say?” 

You hear some rustling and kicking in the background, and suddenly it’s the Cat again. 

“Hey, Bokuto just basically knocked out. We’ll let you go now. Don’t worry Akaashi and I will make sure he doesn’t die in the corner.” 

“Oh. Okay, that’s good.” 

The call ends abruptly after that. You can’t help but feel like your spirits are quickly dampened. You were so, so close to coaxing the truth out of Bokuto. Is it possible that he shared similar feelings as you? You feel your face grow hot at that thought. It’s not impossible right? It’s not as if this is a wildly crazy assumption anymore, like you had initially imagined. The gaps between the two of you have slowly become less of a concern with Jun’s encouragement. If feelings are shared, it’s not like anyone’s getting hurt, right? What are you thinking? 

In Tokyo, Akaashi gives Kuroo a deadpan expression.  “You’re the one egging him on,” Akaashi accuses. 

“Look I didn’t know it was going to head off in THAT direction,” Kuroos defends. “He was practically about to spill his poor little feelings out to her. Did ya hear what she was saying? He almost fell into her trap.” 

“You stopped him in the end.”

Kuroo runs a hand through his hair. “Well yea, I don’t think drunk confessions are cute. And he’s got a match soon, what if she doesn’t reciprocate.” 

“What if she does, though.”

Kuroo laughs. “Well shit, that might be even worse. Bokuto’s just going to run back to Osaka. Forget about the upcoming match, he might not even get on a bullet-train. Just pure sprint.” 

Bokuto’s eyes are slightly glazed, mind buzzing. He throws all 80 plus kilos of him onto Kuroo. “TETSUUU, does she like me back?” he whines. 

With great difficulty, Kuroo manages to support the weight of the athlete with Akaashi’s help. At least Bokuto’s hotel is close by. “Can’t be for sure, but it’s definitely not a hard-no.” 

“Akaashi?” Bokuto mumbles.

“Perhaps.”

When they manage to haul Bokuto to the hotel lobby, Akaashi makes a call to Hinata. Akaashi considers whether or not he should call another one of Bokuto’s teammates. Sakusa is reliable, but at this hour he’s either asleep or going to selectively ignore the call. Atsumu, well, Bokuto mentioned he went out to have fun, so probably not a good option. It doesn’t matter, Bokuto’s unofficial disciple is already in the lobby assisting. 

“Bokuto, geez, what happened.” Hinata easily takes Boktuo’s weight from Kuroo. Although Hinata is quite a ways shorter, it’s undeniable how much sturdier and stronger he has gotten since high-school. Bokuto’s weight doesn’t put much pressure on him at all. With some more assistance and help, they manage to get Bokuto into bed. A hangover is bound to happen, but at least the big athlete isn’t going to wake up in a ditch somewhere. 

A few days later, the MSBY Black Jackals are in position to face off the Tachibana Red Falcons in the final game before the quarter-finals. It’s been a while since Bokuto’s team played in Tokyo, so this match is one everyone has been looking forward to. Ideally, they’ll be back here again soon for the finals. In the locker room, each of the players is getting ready. Some have their own quirky rituals they like to do. A special piece of jewelry they might tuck in. A small prayer they say. A unique way of styling the hair. A pep talk in front of the mirror.

“Please, Coach. Don’t take me off the roster. I can still play,” Bokuto pleads. 

Coach Foster tenses. This isn’t a conversation he wants to have with Bokuto. He had his suspicions for a while now, checked in with Bokuto who shrugs everything off with enthusiasm. Foster talked with the personal trainers and they are equally beffudled. Things don't match up. However, after reviewing the reels of previous matches, piecing together bits and pieces from practice, he has made a decision as a Coach. “Bokuto, the team doesn’t need an athlete injured and still playing. We have enough talented athletes to play on-court without having to burden any single one. This isn't finals either-”

“I’m replaceable…” Bokuto concludes. 

Coach Foster sighs. “Not in that sense, Bokuto-” 

“But, this game is-”

Meian interrupts and puts a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder, giving a light squeeze. “Hey, we still need you here, you hear? We’re gonna bring the win back for all of us. Just sit tight until you get that shoulder checked out, okay?” 

Bokuto bites the inside of his lip and reluctantly nods. Coach Foster mentally thanks the existence of the team captain. Even if Bokuto doesn’t listen to him, the coach, Bokuto would undoubtedly listen to his most cherished captain.

“Bokuto, this is just until we get some more information on how your shoulder is doing,” Foster clarifies. “If everything is fine, then you’ll be back to play in no time.”

Bokuto nods again. “Yea, I understand.”

For the entirety of the match, Bokuto is in a daze. Bokuto can’t recall the last time he actually sat on this bench. It must have been when he first joined the team, really. He never sat on the bench before that. Not in middle-school, not high-school. Bokuto thought that “bench days'' were over after he finally worked his way up to a starting member. Yea, sometimes he’d get a bit tired and sub out, but that’s different. Coach has no intent to put him into this game this time. 

Bokuto is not sure how he’s supposed to feel. His eyes are empty, simply following the flow of the game with no thoughts. The ball travels back and forth, up and down. The athletes jump. Oh, that ball went out. Sakusa gets a service ace in. Hinata. Atsumu. 

The lights are bright. Wow, that’s new. Don’t look at it. 

Ow. 

The eyes hurt. 

The crowd is loud. They are cheering. What are they saying exactly? 

Bokuto cheers too. It’s his team, his brothers, and best buds out there. He’s happy for them, but his cheers come out convoluted and messy. It’s all so muddy. He doesn’t like this feeling. 

It’s sickening. 

Why is he here again? 

What is he even doing here? 

Should he be here in the first place?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The [released roster of national team members ](https://m.weibo.cn/status/4585432191603408?#&gid=1&pid=1)came at such an opportune time for this chapter 😂 The fact that Suna is also on the team? WOW. And the fact that there are people born in the 21st century also on the roster just makes me feel plenty old 😂 
> 
> I hope everyone had a good holiday and New Year! I had this drafted a while back already, but the next few are just a little angsty so I didn’t want to drop that on everyone. I have the rest of this story bulleted and planned out in more detail now. Currently, there are about 8-10 chapters left depending on how many events I plan on writing out. We're going to finish strong~
> 
> At the same time, this is a self-promo: if you like Kita, I have a 24 chapter short fic (Season + Weather) also being updated. It’s more aesthetic than plot, and I'm quite proud of it 😊


	27. Detangling Knots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Bokuto retreats into his shell, you reach out. Knots are a pain to detangle, but with patience, consistency, and care, any burden can be unraveled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally. Hope I haven't kept too many of you waiting 😭 I didn't like the original draft so I spent some time to rework it again. 
> 
> Content Warnings: angst (basically resolved by end of chapter), anxiety, dreamscape panic & nightmare

It severely bothers you that after Bokuto’s drunken call, which you later deduced was dialed by Kuroo, you have yet to hear much from the Owl-Head. You called him once and he picked up, but the conversation died down before you could say anything and then he hung up. He said that he was “busy”. 

“Busy” is a fair excuse, you reason with yourself. However, the deep pit of your guts tells you that it isn’t quite so simple. You peeked at the match and didn’t even notice Bokuto playing at all. Coach Foster, after the match, made an announcement that he wanted to try out different play combinations and strategies before the quarter-finals. And so, a request for no commentaries, no comments, no reports, were made to the reporting team. A request for hush silence, essentially. 

You would completely believe Foster, but the lack of news from Bokuto is too alarming to ignore. You decide that you’ll call Bokuto again later tonight after work and if that doesn’t work out, you’ll have to visit his place over the weekend to check on him. There’s quite a bit of work piling up again. New drafts that need to be edited. Finished proofs to be sent out. A ton of meetings to attend…

Everything else can wait. For now, you’ll just enjoy some late, overdue lunch. You’re already a very-important-person at Onigiri Miya. It’s essentially your go-to location for a hearty, quick lunch, and sometimes wherever you want to chat with the owner. Miya Osamu is a very easy-going person to chat with. Eating here is almost a therapeutic experience. It’s a shame that some people simply buy to-go. At the same time, that might be a good thing too, since it leaves more space and time for you to enjoy.

“Oh hey, Atsumu, you’re here too!” You notice Bokuto’s teammate also lounging around the back corner where you typically sit. Atsumu is usually around the shop during and after dinner hours. Sometimes he pops in at other times, but that’s usually a rarity.

“Hey,” Atsumu greets before going to the backroom. You notice his face twisting briefly into a frown before relaxing again. 

Osamu wordlessly hands you the menu, before following his twin to the back. You slowly flip through the menu, which you already know by heart. Osamu never gives you the menu anymore. So why did he just do that? The twins seem to be gibbering about something. Is that Atsumu? He sounds frustrated. It’s bad to eavesdrop, you remind yourself while attempting to concentrate on the text and pictures of the menu. Should you ask Atsumu about Bokuto? If they are close teammates then perhaps Atsumu would have a better inkling of what’s going on. 

“Ya think she knows?” Atsumu whispers harshly. It’s a bit louder than intended and the words don’t escape your ears. Are they talking about you? What is it that you do not know? This goes on back-and-forth for a couple minutes. You don’t hear the rest of the details. Finally, you set the menu down and tap the service bell. 

“Ready to order,” you call out. Anything to get their attention and move them out of that backroom. You give Osamu the usual order and he hurries off to prepare it. Atsumu shuffles back and forth, whispering some more gibberish to Osamu, giving you questionable looks and then turning back to Osamu again. 

It’s so obvious something is up in the air. 

“Atsumu, is there something I should know?” 

Atsumu’s shoulders twitch briefly and he turns around to look at you. Your expression is inquisitive. Completely unaware of the thoughts in Atsumu’s head.

“You don’t know?” Atsumu tests you hesitantly.

“If you don’t say anything, how am I supposed to know…” 

Atsumu fidgets a bit and elaborates a bit. “About Bokuto and what happened?”

So, there is something going on with Bokuto. 

“What’s going on.” 

Osamu puts an onigiri in front of you. “Eat first,” he orders. 

You eat lunch and wait. What Atsumu reluctantly, with the help of Osamu, tells you next shocks you. Nothing could have prepared you for this news. You can feel the temperature of the room plummet. “Rest of the season,” you repeat, slowly going over the pronunciation of each syllable. 

“Yea, season ends in mid-April...depending on how far we’ll get. But Bokuto’s going to be sitting out all of them. Afterward, not sure either...” 

“Is it serious?” 

Atsumu shakes his head. “Not what I heard. But I don’t know the exact details…”

What are you supposed to do, right now. It all makes sense. Shit. How many times did you smell Salonpas on that guy, and even almost enjoyed the minty smell. And you did not bother at any moment to just wonder why? Or just last week and so at housewarming, the accident. That hug. You should have recognized it, the signs were right there. 

“I have to go,” you mumble, pulling out some cash for your food before rushing out the store. It’s near the end of lunch hour. Your stuff is still piling on the desk, you have things that are still due. Go back, go back. Responsibilities. Expectations. 

Bokuto. 

Your feet take you towards the subway station away from the office. While rushing down the staircase, you slip momentarily before catching your balance and continue the frenzy to catch the train. You need to check on him immediately. Right now. Ten minutes ago. Last week. A month before that. 

In the subway train, you fumble with your phone to call Hana and Jun. You already have two missed calls from them. You return Hana’s call and she picks up. 

“Where are you? It’s past-” she says. 

“I have an emergency, can’t explain,” you blurt out quickly. “I have four emails I need to get out. Drafted most already, you can find the password in my notebook, fifth page on the bottom. I’ll be back before the end of day to get my stuff, I’ll work over tonight. Can you please help excuse me? I’m really, really, really sorry. There’s-”

“Calm down,” Hana interrupts. “Breathe, don’t panic. I got you, alright. Don’t worry. Breathe. Don’t worry.” 

You take a deep breath and focus on the inhale and exhale. When Hana no longer hears your ragged breath, she continues. “I’ll let Jun know and we’ll cover, alright. They’re worried about you too. Just focus on what you need to do now, don’t panic, you hear me?” 

“Thank you, thank you,” you repeat over and over. The loudspeaker announces your stop. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. Thank you.” 

“All good, call me if you need anything,” Hana says before hanging up. 

While rushing over to Bokuto’s apartment, you think about what you want to say when you see him. Your mind is busy and empty at the same time. Get there first. A left here and straight. Right at the corner. Up the stairs. You knock on the door. No response. You knock again, hitting your knuckles against the steel a bit harder. 

“Bokuto. It’s me. Can you open up please? Koutarou?” you call from the outside. The lack of response is suffocating. You try calling his phone. You can almost hear the ringtone from the other side of the door, but clearly, no one is picking up. You continue to pace outside the door, biting the inside of your lip. He’s in there, he’s in there, he’s in there, he’s in there, he’s in there, he’s in there. 

You hear quiet footsteps coming down the hall and see an old woman walking over carrying a small bag of groceries. That must be who Bokuto calls Granny, his neighbor, and elderly friend. You bow and apologize. 

“Excuse me, I’m sorry for disturbing you.” You try to calm your words and cover the uneasiness that’s flooding your thoughts. 

“No, no, it’s fine.” She waves your apology away and stops in front of Bokuto’s door. “Looking for Koutarou? He’s not going to come out on his own. He’s going through a difficult, hard time.” 

“He told me about you. The two of you eat together sometimes. How is he, have you seen him?” 

“The boy never tells anyone when he’s sick.” She sighs. “I checked on him the other day already. He needs some time.” 

Your eyes are focused on the floor. Bokuto is just beyond this door and wall, but you can’t reach him. And his heart is hidden even further. 

“What is Koutarou to you?” You are startled by the sudden question. “And what are you to him?” 

That’s right, what are you exactly? A friend. Not a best friend, maybe. Not an acquaintance. Certainly not family, nor teammates. And not lovers either. Clearly, he’s not sharing everything with you though.

“I don’t know,” you reply softly. “I don’t know what I am to him. But I know he’s very important to me. I’m worried about him. My mind’s just in a frenzy right now. I can barely think straight...” 

Granny doesn’t respond. 

You stare at the stainless steel door and decide to clarify what “important” means. “I really like him.”

She laughs. “I know that much.”

Is it that obvious? 

“I know this particular Koutarou longer than you have. He’s a strong boy, but he still needs support and comfort. He can push people out though, but I think if you reach out some more, he’ll respond,” Granny says, handing the grocery bag to you. “Go to him. He doesn’t lock the door. Believe me, I know.”

You take the small bag from her and watch the old woman head back into her apartment. So, she has entrusted visiting Bokuto onto you. With Granny’s tip, you try out the doorknob. True enough, it’s not locked. The door opens.

The familiar hallway is dark. The floorboards are a tad grimy. It’s very different from the apartment you first entered when you arrived in Osaka. The walls seem especially run-down and brittle. Each step you take makes the floor creak. 

“Koutarou?” you call out softly. “It’s me. Sorry for entering, it’s just me okay? I brought some food. It’s from Granny…”

You look around the dim room to find Bokuto. How can he possibly manage to hide in this small space? The man is huge. You set the bag down on the table and flip on the kitchen lights. He’s not in the kitchen or living room. The bathroom is also empty. That leaves the bedroom. You knock gently on the door. 

“Koutarou? Can you hear me? Can I come in?” 

You find a large mound of blanket in a corner. It’s Bokuto, swaddled in a blanket, asleep on the floor in the corner. The room is a mess from what you can see in the dark. Papers are scattered around the floor, piles of clothes, unorganized gym bags...It takes some effort to tip-toe around the room and avoid stepping on stuff. Sort of weird, in hindsight, since you do feel like a burglar trespassing. Pushing those thoughts aside, you get closer to the sleeping athlete. Bokuto sleeps like a baby, like a rock, so he doesn’t wake up when you put a hand up to his forehead. No fever at least. 

“You smell, big guy,” you whisper. “Have you been taking care of yourself? Why not sleep on the bed, hm?”

Bokuto is too heavy to move, so you opt to at least put a pillow under his head and tuck the corner of the blankets around him some more. A tissue is swiped across the corner of his mouth and the ground where a puddle of drool is forming. You’ll leave him there for now and quietly leave the room. He’ll probably be hungry when he wakes up.

\---

Bokuto is fast asleep. In his deep consciousness, far off in dreamland, he’s flying. Everything is converging and diverging at the same time. 

“Watch me, we’re going to win Nationals!” Bokuto announces to you. 

You frown, “What are you talking about? Nationals are long over. And you lost, remember?”

Bokuto tenses and tries to play it off as a joke. “Hey, hey, hey! You’ve got a good memory! I was just testing you!” 

“Why are you talking to me? Who are you?” 

Bokuto’s smile falters. He’s Bokuto. Bokuto Koutarou. How did you forget? No sound comes out. Your face warps. Twists. The trees are blown away and decomposing into darkness. Wait, don’t go. Where are you going? Void. 

Where’s he now? Ah the old apartment with the bad pipes. It’s been a while. A convenience store bento sits on the table. Great, he’s hungry, time to dig in. The old tv whirs to life. 

“Unbelievable! Look at Sakusa Kiyoomi! He’s only a first-year university student, but it’s clear he’s a force to be reckoned with!”

Stop. Just stop. Change the channel. 

“Ushijima Wakatoshi, how are your feelings on the national team. This isn’t your first international debut, right? You were already in the U-19 team…”

Change. 

Need to improve. 

“Wakatsu Kiryuu…”

Change. 

Get better. 

“Ya better not have those damn moods of yours if ya want me to toss to ya!” 

Change.

Bokuto finds himself in the training gym suddenly. The lights are so bright it hurts to look at them. The other team members are in practice. It looks so effortless, but he can’t move. The floor feels sticky. He hears Meian calling him over. 

“I c-can’t!” Bokuto tries to yell out, but nothing comes out. “I’m STUCK! I can’t MOVE!” 

Meian’s smile remains on his face, waving at him. “Bokuto, weren’t you a top five ace in high-school? We’re expecting a lot from you, okay?”

Bokuto nods fervently and wills his legs to move. Just a step. Even a twitch. 

MOVE!

Akaashi suddenly appears. “Bokuto,” he frowns. “Haven’t you gotten over your weakness already? We came up with so many.”

Kuroo walks out from behind Akaashi and snickers, “I warned you didn’t I? How many big fishes out in the sea tryin’ to get you.”

That’s not right, why is he at the MSBY training gym? Shouldn’t Akaashi and Kuroo be in Tokyo? Bokuto frantically looks around the gym. Something isn’t right. This isn’t happening. He spots you sitting at a bench. Your huge scarf is wrapped around your neck. Are you feeling cold, still? 

You get up and walk towards him, happily, cheerfully. 

Bokuto tries to yell your name in vain. He stretches his arms out towards you. Your walk turns into a skip and breaks into a run, right through him. This hurts, Bokuto cries. Not good. This is not good. He’ll try harder. Please. One more chance.

Empty. Empty. Empty. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Joke. Joke.Joke. 

Shame.

Disqualified.

Weak.

\---

Bokuto’s eyes flash open in the dark bedroom. He can still hear the blood rushing and heart pumping from the dream. Dreams seem so real until one wakes up. For a split second, it’s a state of utter confusion between reality and dreamscape. Bokuto looks at his surroundings and feels the floor he’s on. He’s grounded. He’s here. It’s okay. This is his room. It’s okay. He tries to focus on something and hears the faint cleaning of pots and pans. It’s from the kitchen. The light shines through the crevice beneath the door. It sounds like home. It sounds like mom and dad and older sisters and…

Wait. This is Osaka. They’re not here. Is it Granny?

Bokuto struggles to sit up. His neck and shoulder are cramped from the poor sleeping posture. He can feel the joints cracking from having slept for so long. The taste in his mouth is dry and bad. His scalp itches. His stomach, growling. 

He’s definitely still here. It was just a bad dream, Bokuto tells himself. It’s okay.

Bokuto pulls himself up, stretching slightly and reaches for the doorknob. Bright light washes over him and the dark room behind him. On accident, Bokuto stubs his toe on the edge of his door, and curses under his breath. But at least, the pain fully wakes him up and reminds him that the scene in front of him isn’t a figment of his imagination. It’s real. You’re here. So, you must already know.

“Finally awake sleepyhead?” you ask, seeing Bokuto finally awake. “Come, you should eat at least.” 

“But how,” Bokuto asks quietly.

“Door’s unlocked, Granny told me.” You go over to Bokuto and lead him to the seat. “I’m not the best cook, but it shouldn't be terrible.”

Bokuto is still in a daze when he finally sits down. The steam from the soup starts to wake him some more. If it isn’t for the pain in his left toe, he would still think he is dreaming. Bokuto hesitantly picks up the spoon and tries the broth.

It’s bland. Too bland.

It’s warm. It’s so warm. Nourishing. Loving. 

It’s the best thing he’s had in a while.

“W-what’s wrong?” You panic at Bokuto staring at the bowl. Suddenly fat tears roll off Bokuto’s face and you panic even more.

“It’s bland,” Bokuto chokes out between sniffles. 

“Hah? Bland?” You take the spoon and try the broth. “Oh crap, it is.”

Bokuto’s tears start to fall harder. He picks up the chopsticks and begins to eat the noodles. 

“W-wait. I’ll season it some more, um-” 

“No, it’s good,” Bokuto whispers. His eating pace slows down to normal. 

You sink into the seat next to Bokuto and quietly watch Bokuto eat. One bite after another. One sip after the next. That’s good. Eat well, Bokuto. Eat well and get better. Rest well and stand up again. Heal.

Bokuto finishes the contents, picking up the bowl to get every drop of the soup. He sets the bowl down and stares at the empty ceramic.

“Why are you all so good to me? You, Akaashi, everyone else…” Bokuto asks. “I’m just a disappointment to you all! A-and to myself!”

Bokuto’s confession rings in your head. Disappointment? You want to blurt out immediately, No you’re not. You’re strong. Comfort him in this instance. Stop his tears. Wait. Just listen. Listen, as Bokuto did for you.

“I yelled at him, you know. I shouted at Akaashi. He found out and called me and I yelled at him when I got frustrated. He was just trying to comfort me and encourage me, but...but I was just stupid! A-and then my mom called me too, but I didn’t pick up. I don’t know if she knows yet, but I haven’t opened her text yet either. And I know you’re wondering why I didn’t tell you anything either...” 

So, Bokuto just shut them all out. Locked outside. He hid from you too. Bokuto continues spilling his feelings out.

“I feel pathetic that I’m upset over all this. It’s not as if I can’t play volleyball anymore. It’s just the season, really. I mean, I know I’ll recover and it’s probably not going to be a big deal. Worst case I won’t be the team for World’s later this year, but haha I wasn’t sure if I was a starting member anyways, and I’m doing my best already so that’s all that really matters, and I’m not that Bokuto who will mope and cry in the corner, I’m better than that now, and I’m strong, I think. I’m…I’m embarrassed. Because what Sakusa told me came true. And now Atsumu can also be saying ‘I told you so’. Meian told me he was counting on me...I don’t even know what I should be doing during this time. What if it happens again in the future? I don’t know, I don’t know.”

How long? For how long has Bokuto been shouldering these thoughts alone until the weight of this loneliness is too much to bear? This particular Bokuto that you saw only glimpses of, hidden and tucked away behind layers of layers of cheerfulness and confidence.

Your phone rings. The caller ID is Akaashi. You show Bokuto the screen and ask, “should I pick up?”

“Go ahead, it’s fine.” 

You answer the phone.

“Have you heard from Bokuto?” Akaashi asks urgently. 

You glance at Bokuto and turn the speaker on. “Yea, I’m at his place right now...he just had some food.” 

Akaashi audibly sighs in relief on the other end. “Okay, that’s good. I got a little worried. As long as you’ve checked up on him that’s good. That’s good. I think he’s upset with me.” 

“I’m not upset at you,” Bokuto blurts out. 

“B-Bokuto? Is that you?” 

“Yea,” Bokuto responds a bit quieter. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright. I know it wasn’t your intention. Give your mom a call sometime too okay? She’s worried too. Don’t hide from us, we’ll get worried.” 

“Why are you all so good to me?” Bokuto asks painfully.

That’s not a hard question at all. You put a hand over Bokuto’s and answer without hesitation. “Because you’re Bokuto Koutarou. Our classmate, our friend, teammember, and also my hero.” 

“Hero? Haha, you can be a comedian,” Bokuto chuckles in disbelief. 

“No really. At least speaking for myself. It was you. Bokuto Koutarou, the athlete, the friend, the person... It’s just always been you. You’re so perceptive, you know? You’ve always cheered me up, encouraged me...you stood up for me, listened to me...you have no idea.”

“She’s right,” Akaashi adds on. “You’re important to a lot of us. And it’s never because of how excellent you were at volleyball. It’s always just because of you.” 

“But we met because of volleyball. And you know I got a crap ton of weaknesses there is a whole damn book,” Bokuto points out, and looks at you. “And we met because I’m a dumb burden.”

“You’ve never been a burden to us,” Akaashi states firmly. “And who doesn’t have weaknesses? It’s a normal thing isn’t it? Above all else, you brought the whole team together, got rid of that ridiculous notion of hierarchy in the team...it was you, no other, who made everyone feel welcomed. It changed the team, you know. Everything. Your strengths, how far you’ve come. If you forgot all the incredible things you’ve done, we can sit with you days and nights for weeks to remind you.” 

Bokuto looks at you hesitantly and you give his hand another squeeze with a reassuring smile. “That’s right, Bokuto. You really have no idea just how amazing and incredible you really are. All this time, you’ve been running forward, sprinting ahead, you’ve forgotten just how much distance you’ve covered. Just because you’re fully standing on your own two feet now doesn’t mean you can’t rely on us. Doesn’t make you weak.”

A tangled knot is a bundle of difficult feelings intersected and crossing into one another. Sometimes, it forms without anyone noticing at all, until the ball of a mess is formed and nothing can be done. If you tug on either end, the knot just becomes tighter and tighter and tighter. It takes a lot of patience to slowly unravel everything. Slowly pick at the knot, one at a time, unraveling, detangling. Work at it one line at a time, Sort everything out, one feeling after the next. That’s exactly what the three of you are doing. Everything else can wait while the three of you unravel the dead knot in the room. Back and forth, back and forth, laughing, crying, connecting. 

“Okay.” Bokuto finally lets out a small, relaxed smile. “I’m going to the PT tomorrow, actually...we’ll have some more talk about what’s next.” 

“One step at a time,” Akaashi says. “They’ll help you...and let us, your family and friends, support you through that.” 

By the time Akaashi hangs up, your battery is pretty much drained, and all that remains of the knot, are greasy tresses of hair that need to be washed. After you put your phone away, Bokuto sees you coming closer, arms outstretched like his dream. He feels you. Your arms around his neck. Body against his own. Corporeal. Existent. 

So warm. So wonderful.

“Thank you for opening yourself to us,” you whisper into his t-shirt. You can care less when it was last washed. It smells of Bokuto before anything else. Good or nasty, it’s him.

“Thank you,” Bokuto whispers back.

“Don’t hide anymore okay, you’re not alone in this. And we’ll get through this, yea? Trust me. From one ace to another, right?” 

Bokuto chuckles quietly upon hearing his own words being spoken back to him and tightens his arms around you. He feels so lucky. So warm. Incredibly loved and cherished.


	28. Quarter to Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After you leave, Bokuto tries to do a few things. He wipes the floorboards, lets in the fresh air, and picks up his laundry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: light angst, mentions of anxiety

The after-effects of a bad dream sometimes take a while to recover from. One may lay in bed and refresh the contents of the nightmare, strike up a conversation with a friend and recount the tales of horror. There may be attempts to figure out just why the dream happened in the first place. Perhaps it was a movie watched late at night, some random thread encountered on the internet, or lingering thoughts that were supposedly hidden away. In any case, the day continues as it must despite discomforts and uncertainties. And with any day, night accompanies.

It is 21:00 and Bokuto is alone in his apartment. There is quite a bit to do. The grimy floorboard is still grimy, fresh air is a scarce resource, and laundry is still littered. You had offered to lend a hand to help, and although Bokuto knew it was partly out of kindness and another piece from concern, he didn’t want to keep you from your work. And truthfully he didn’t really want you to go either.

\---

Bokuto steps out of the bathroom after washing up after the meal. You just finished tidying the bowls and kitchen, cleaning out the fridge of the more questionable perishables. But your impromptu escape from work unannounced comes for you and your phone rings with missed calls from Hana and Jun. They are a huge help but ultimately can’t cover everything.

"You should go," Bokuto says upon seeing the frown on your face after you look at your phone. "I'll be okay, now! There's a lot I have to do."

You don't look quite as convinced. Bokuto gives you a big smile, but you're hesitant to take it at face value, literally. "Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything," you tell him. "I'll call you later tonight too?" Bokuto nods his head quickly. The action splatters tiny droplets of water from his wet hair. "Make sure you dry your hair," you add.

"Shoulder's kinda sore when I hold the dryer up too long," Bokuto complains. "It'll be dry soon anyway."

That's no good. You check the time on your phone. "You know what, it won't take too long, I'll help you out with that."

Bokuto ponders on this offer for a moment. He did want you to stay some more. Your presence here is so comforting. It wasn't an excuse to make you stay, but he can't help but feel so giddy that you'll be with him for just a few more minutes. He won't even wish that he had long hair instead, just so you'll be at the apartment for ages blow-drying his hair. No, just a few more minutes is enough. When you grab the hairdryer and return to the living room, Bokuto is already sitting comfortably on the rug.

The scenery is a deja-vu. You knew exactly where the hairdryer was, and now in the living room, you know exactly where the socket is located too. And the texture of Bokuto's hair is also all too familiar. You comb through the wet tangles a few times, towel drying a bit more before turning the hairdryer on. The loud buzz fills the empty apartment. The two of you can't talk much over the noise. When you wave the hairdryer back and forth, the machine buzzes and whirs interchangeably. You focus on moving the hair and dryer around so that no spot gets too hot.

You turn the hairdryer off. "Hm what? Did you say something?"

Bokuto snaps his back straight from his slouch. "Hah? Oh! I was just mumbling how I like you drying my hair! It’s, it's like a spa, haha. My sisters liked to play dress-up on me when I was young, so it sort of reminds me of that! I like that!"

"Oh yea..." You laugh. "You have really nice and thick hair. Are your sisters' like that too?"

"Nah, only I got our mom's lovely locks," Bokuto says proudly.

The conversation dies down quickly when you turn the hairdryer back on and finishes drying the rest of the hair. Too fast. When you put the hairdryer down, you brush through Bokuto's hair once more. He sighs. The shivers running down his scalp and spine when your fingers run through his hair, massaging the roots slightly are relaxing and ticklish.

"Wish you could do this more often," Bokuto mumbles. "It's nice..."

Bokuto's hair feels very nice.

"As often as you'd like then," you reply without thinking.

What does that exactly mean, both of you think to yourselves at the same time. 

“Uh, your hair is dried now,” you observe, and quickly go to unplug the dryer. 

“Yea, thanks.” Bokuto shakes his head and runs a hand through the hair a couple of times for no good reason at all.

You pick up your stuff and see from your phone that barely any time passed, but really, it felt much, much longer. Bokuto follows you to the doorframe and watches you slip on your shoes and put on your jacket. A part of him wants nothing more to whine and tell you to stay longer, but it's the other part that opens the door for you.

"Careful on the way and I hope you don't have any trouble," Bokuto says.

"I'll call you." It's a promise.

"Don't worry about me."

"Give me reasons not to then, Mr. Owl-head." You are outside the door frame now and nod towards the door. "Go inside, it's fine you don't have to see me off."

"Just go already."

You take a few steps backward. "Okay, then. I'm off."

Bokuto sees you off with his gaze, watching you walk down the stairs and appear minuscule on the ground floor. You look up and wave at Bokuto to go inside. He waves back before finally slipping back into his apartment. The space is quiet again, but the warmth from your presence is still lingering around.

\---

It's 21:30 and Bokuto is still alone in his apartment. Thirty minutes feel like forever. After you left, Bokuto tried to tidy the apartment up, but to no avail. He watched TV for a bit, stretched on his mat, and scrolled through his phone some more. He got hungry and picked out some fruits to eat. A few hours later, there are no changes to the floorboards, air quality, or the laundry still untouched on the floor. Bokuto finds himself not wanting to think about volleyball tonight or himself and all of that. He tries to focus his thoughts on you instead.

Coming to terms with his own feelings, acknowledging the desire he wants something different, more, with you, at the very least all of those exist in his own head. It wasn't rocket science and even Bokuto, when the signs flashed, knew what his heart was telling him. However, telling you, now that's a whole other hurdle altogether. It almost feels like trying to find the right moment and timing to enter a swinging jump rope. He tried with his older sisters and each time he would get tangled in the rope or trip over his own two feet. Do what feels right, Tomas told him. It's a mess, Bokuto concludes. He's a mess, his feelings are a mess, and his apartment is a mess. Yes, his apartment is also a mess right now. He needs to get to it before it drives him crazy, something mundane to keep his mind busy. And guess what, at least that's a mess he can take care of in the meantime. Perhaps also check-in with his family and let them know their son and little brother is, for the most part, still kicking. Multi-tasking, right?

With those thoughts, Bokuto turns on the lights of his room for the first time in a while. He also rolls up the blinds and opens the window. The sounds from the street rush in to fill the space with beeps and honks. After some deliberation, Bokuto decides not to call his sisters or parents and sends a text instead, telling them he's doing well and that he'll call them in the next few days. Bokuto doesn't want them to worry, but for today, he just doesn't want to talk about "it" anymore. Hopefully, they'll understand.

Bokuto picks up one article of clothing after the next. He doesn't even bother sniffing them to gauge the wearability of the sweater. Without a second thought, everything can go into the hamper. Anything on the floor has probably been trampled over or cried on already. Everything gets thrown into the washer.

Bokuto picks up the books he had pushed onto the floor in rage one evening. The poor spine of the novel is folded awkwardly and the pages are permanently creased. Oh no, that was from Akaashi, Bokuto thinks. He hurriedly picks the book up and tries to flatten the pages down, unsuccessfully. Dented. Permanently. The thoughts rush back to his mind, threatening to drown him.

 _No Longer Human._ It's a novel you and Akaashi have read and given many thoughts to. It's a book that because you read and had thoughts about, Bokuto decided to give it a read too. The main protagonist, Ōba Yozo...Bokuto remembers that pitiful man. It's sometimes easier to be a clown, isn't it? It's so incredibly easy to just let go and fall. It's easy to say, 'I never cared in the first place' and decay. Ōba let go. Ōba decided not to give himself the chance anymore. Dazai went the ultimate step. Bokuto closes the book and puts it beneath a stack of heavier books. He won't let go even though his chest feels tight and his eyes feel heavy.

Bokuto picks up the next book on the floor, a notebook titled "Bokuto's Weaknesses & Relevant Solutions: A Primer''. Bokuto never really read through the thing. Part of him is still scared. The last time he was with Akaashi in the latter's apartment, flipping through it was just for giggles. Is now really a good time? Bokuto opens to page one where you first started the journal. Bokuto expected the list to just really begin from there picking out each of his “bad points”, but instead he found something that can only really be called "A Preface" or "Prologue" of sorts.

_This journal is a series of observations and thoughts on Bokuto. I just started to tutor him and hopefully help him out a bit. My first impressions of him are that he's very sweet and passionate about things he cares about. He's got a bright personality! But sometimes he can be moody too and I don't know what to do...he's got a TON of strengths, far exceeding any weakness he'll have though. I think these are more like unique quirks of his, really. That's the most important part! Anyways, yeah._

Bokuto turns the page.

_Bokuto’s weakness #1: Volleyball. Uncontested, this guy is absolutely in love with volleyball. It's all he'll ever talk about if you give him a chance, next to food...which I'll put down as #2._

Bokuto reads through all of your thoughts and observations about him. Most of them are completely new to him. Sometimes he finds himself smiling at your bluntness and uncensored thoughts, probably because you had never intended the journal to land in Bokuto’s hands in the first place. Then again, you did give the whole thing to Akaashi. Most of your entries are quite short but thoughtful. It’s actually quite difficult for Bokuto to try to remember exactly which action of his landed a particular something in the notebook. Bokuto probably won’t ever remember because he was busy focusing on something else to see how he looked in your eyes. 

Bokuto notices that no matter what he flips to, the whole journal never leaves two elements: Bokuto and volleyball. It’s almost impossible to fully separate the two into separate units. Volleyball is both a passion and a means of living. It has become a lifestyle. After so many years of waking up thinking about practice and going to bed dreaming of the view from above, Bokuto sometimes struggles to think of himself beyond a volleyball athlete. Almost everything, the places he has been to and the people has met, are all connected to him because he plays volleyball. Bokuto thinks about himself. His number one weakness. The first and last thing on his mind. Bokuto grabs a pen and flips back to his first weakness. As if he is in the midst of signing a contract, Bokuto adds a few strokes that add up to a name next to “Volleyball”. Content, Bokuto shuts the journal and puts it back on the shelf.

At 22:14, Bokuto slides under fresh sheets. The smell of the detergent is relaxing, but it still isn’t enough to put his mind at ease. When and why did something so natural like falling asleep become so difficult? Bokuto closes his eyes and prays for rest, but all he can think of and all he can see behind his closed eyes are the images of a gym that is empty and disappointed. If he sleeps, will he be taken back to that scene again? And more importantly, how will the meeting with the PT go tomorrow? He’ll see Coach Foster tomorrow, what will he say? And what of his teammates who he’ll be seeing in the first time after a while? Bokuto kicks his covers around and tosses around. Something’s wrong with this bed, there just isn’t a comfortable position. Maybe he should just huddle and sleep on the floor in the corner again. You said you were going to call him, but you didn’t. Bokuto sighs thinking about that. It’s likely because you are busy, but you didn’t text him either. If he were to call or text you, would you find him needy and annoying? Would you finally blame him for disturbing your schedule?

It's 23:45 when you realize that in the midst of your work, you didn't check-in on Bokuto. You huff and smack your forehead. "Damnnit, how the hell did you forget," you curse yourself.

You pick up your phone and decide hesitantly whether or not to call. It's almost midnight, Bokuto could very well be asleep now. But at the same time, he could very well not be either. Your finger taps across the screen lightly.

_"Sleeping yet?"_

You get back to doing the final lookover of the draft you just edited. Your eyes naturally drift over to your phone screen to see if it'll light up. You sigh and end up turning the notification sounds on and flipping the phone over instead before trying to focus on the laptop screen again. At this point of the night, usually, you'd already be happily tucked in bed, watching "the last youtube video". Working this late wasn't an anomaly before, but it certainly is now. You can't help it either, today really is a different circumstance. You also hope that this really is a one-time thing. You get a few paragraphs in before the familiar notification beep from the phone cuts your attention short. You immediately grab your phone thinking that Bokuto must have responded.

It's not him, just Yukie posting some new photos in the group chat. You swipe the notification away and put the phone down again. This continues again for some time. Right when you are about to just shut the notifications off, you see the message you are scared to be waiting for.

_"Not yet. Can I call you? Are you busy?"_

No questions needed, you dial Bokuto's number immediately.

"How are you feeling now?" you ask when he picks up.

Bokuto's end is quiet for a few moments. "Just can't really fall asleep. Are you still working?"

"Yea, doing one last read-through before tomorrow."

"I'm sorry," Bokuto says quietly. His breathy voice translates through the phone. "I took up a lot of your time today, so you had to work this late..."

"No, don't be. This is a big project, I was bound to work on it a bit late anyway. But also know..." You ponder a bit before finishing, "you're more important."

The blanket seems to rustle a bit in the background and Bokuto hums. "Yea?"

"Yea." The conversation stalls for a bit before you try to bring up another topic. "Do you like listening to things before bed?"

"Hm, music usually, especially on trips to tournaments. Hm, I also tried podcasts, but they sometimes make me think too much. I like stories, though."

You scroll back to the top of your document and hesitantly ask, "Do you want to hear a story?"

"The one you're working on? I thought you didn't like telling me much about your job. You usually hold back."

You didn't know Bokuto thought of it that way, but you do realize you consciously try to avoid talking too much about work. "That's because I thought I would bore you with it all."

"Because I won't understand it?"

"Not that," you respond. "Just that it isn't really all that interesting or exciting. And you already saw the whole shit-show in Tokyo..."

Bokuto counters back. "Do you find it boring when I talk about volleyball a lot?"

"No, I like hearing you talk about it."

"Because it's a sport and it's exciting?"

"Well, that, but it's also important to you."

"Mhm, me too," Bokuto remarks. "I like hearing you talk about stuff important to you too."

Bokuto's words repeat a few times in your head. Important stuff. What makes something important. You may have thought about practicality and esteem. Those are important, but important can come in many ways, as you now know.

"You still there?" Bokuto asks.

"Y-yea, I'm still here," you reply. "So, I'm working on a chapter of a novel series. I just finished editing. You want to hear it?"

"Oooh, unpublished stuff. Is it something I shouldn't be listening to then?"

You don't know, can he? "Well, unless you are recording, transcribing, and leaking the stuff, I think it should be okay."

"Mkay, I'm comfy, my eyes are closed. Take it away."

You clear your throat and begin to read the story. Along the way, you note down areas where the flow isn't quite right, especially during dialogue scenes. Reading aloud seems to help you notice them. Every now and then you pause and take a sip of water before continuing. You almost forget that you're still on the phone with Bokuto. The other end has been quiet.

"Koutarou?" you ask quietly near the end of the chapter. "Still awake?"

You don't hear a response, only the white noise buzz from the line. You whisper, "I'll finish the chapter, 'kay? Just to make sure you're fully asleep."

You smile to yourself before getting ready to read until the end of a chapter. When you finally get to the end of the chapter, you hold the phone mic closer and whisper, "Sleep well big guy...love you," before ending the call. It's in the earliest hours of the day now, and you should catch some sleep too before another busy day around the corner. You save your work and shut off the laptop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience as I was trying to get this chapter out! I wanted to release this a bit sooner, but I don't want to put out anything that isn't ready. I posted this on [tumblr ](https://haikyooot.tumblr.com/post/641259551367249920/love-letter-to-self-and-you)a few days ago, but 1/25 marked the 100th day since I posted this fic. I put the link if you'd like to read the sappy details 😂 We're not over yet, but it's a personal milestone for me and also a sign that I fulfilled my 100 day writing challenge.  
> This is my first posted fanwork and the journey has been so incredible already. I know a couple of you have been following since really early on and offering comments and support. Honestly, I wouldn't have ever gotten this far without you all. No matter when you joined this journey, a big thank you to you all, and all other readers enjoying the work! I appreciate and love you all so dearly. Until next update, please take care of yourself, eat well, sleep well, and remember to hydrate and stay safe. ❤


	29. He Is Himself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto Koutarou is first and foremost himself.

Bokuto Koutarou opens his eyes to the morning sun. The moment he hears the birds chirping outside, he’s wide awake without any semblance of sleepiness clouding his mind. He flings his covers aside with ease and checks his phone for the time. The time is just right. After unlocking the phone, the first app jumping out at him tells him just how long the total duration of the phone call last night was. While concentrating on your voice, Bokuto had the nicest slumber in a while and good dreams on top of that. He’s a bit fuzzy about what happened, all he remembers are a faint confession and the warm breeze of spring much like it is now. Akaashi mentioned some concepts of dreamscapes and projections in some past class he was taking. So maybe it was all just Bokuto projecting his own thoughts through the dream-version of you, but all Bokuto really cares about is that it was a sweet dream and just how real he rendered your voice in said dream.

While he brushes his teeth and follows through with his typical routine, Bokuto toys with the possibility of him telling you his feelings. Or on the off-chance, if you feel the same way if you’ll ever tell him. He’s not invalid as a potential, right? Bokuto furrows his brows thinking about all the possible redeeming qualities he has as a significant other. Well, for starters, he’s a good listener! And additionally, he enjoys chatter, if that’s something you’re into at the moment. You also liked his cooking! So, that’s got to be a plus in your books right? But Osamu is a great cook too, and you go to Onigiri Miya so often. Nah, no way no way.

Well, Bokuto ponders, would you be more interested if he went to university like the other peers? Maybe you two would be able to bond over libraries and coffee shops? Late nights and deadlines? Bokuto remembers how you were so happily chatting with Sakusa Kiyoomi about his university experience. But at least in terms of good looks, Bokuto thinks he has a slight edge over the prickly athlete, just by a smidge. And still, he’s plenty more endearing, perhaps. He gives the best hugs! If that’s your thing. You give great hugs too! You can be the main brain and Bokuto decides he can maybe be your biggest cheerleader for sure. And when you want to just lean back and relax, Bokuto will be there right next to you. As if that’s not already convincing enough, without being too vain, he is confident with his muscular and chiseled physique. You two would look so good together, Bokuto concludes, nodding to himself proudly over his breakfast. Finally, on top of everything, he can play volleyball, well... And with that thought, Bokuto comes back down from his cloud nine to his present reality and gets lost in tumultuous thoughts once more.

The subway is much too packed. Bokuto squeezes through the crowd and apologizes to someone he accidentally elbowed. The day isn’t going right, he panics. A few stops and a transfer, Bokuto arrives at the location texted to him, the clinic that’s neither close nor far from the training gym. Bokuto spots the team manager, Akiyama, who waves at Bokuto and quickly ends the phone call he’s on.

“Don’t worry too much,” Akiyama tells him. “I’ll just wait outside and once you’re done, I’ll take you to the gym.”

“Oh yea, they have practice,” Bokuto remarks.

“Not just ‘they’, Bokuto, you do too,” Akiyama pulls the door open for Bokuto and gestures the athlete in. “It’s the Jackals that have practice.”

The front desk greets Akiyama and Bokuto and goes over a series of paperwork. Just like what he promised earlier, Akiyama leaves Bokuto to his privacy in the check-up. The nature of his injury will be shared, but at least the examination space is Bokuto’s own.

The clock hand travels two and a half quarters when Bokuto is seen coming out of the clinic. Bokuto thanks and shakes the hand of the doctor before making his way to Akiyama. Akiyama gives the doctor a quick nod and leads Bokuto to the car.

“It went better than I expected,” Bokuto says in the car. “Well, I wasn’t sure what to expect either.”

Akiyama peers over at the athlete looking out the window, while switching over to the next lane. “Still frustrated over Coach for taking you out? He could’ve saved your career, you know.”

“I-I wasn’t mad at Coach!” Bokuto stammers, leaning forward in his seat to make his point clear. He sighs and sits back, muttering, “I was just...whatever…”

Akiyama grins and focuses on the road again. The rest of the drive goes smoothly and it doesn’t take long for Akiyama to pull into the garage of the gymnasium. Bokuto grabs his bags and gets out of the car, following behind the team manager down the same familiar corridors.

“I’ll have other business to take care of, you go ahead. Coach will probably want to speak to you for a bit, and get you started with the PT trainer.”

“Okay, thanks.”

The hallway is dim and the light sensors sometimes don’t work. Today, they don’t detect the athlete’s presence at all and remain off. As Bokuto enters the gym, his other teammates don’t notice his arrival. They are currently in the midst of strenuous drills, body and mind so focused no other distractions can shake them. On any other day, Bokuto should be out there with them as well.

"Let's sit and chat, Koutarou," Foster calls out to him, patting the bench seat next to him. Bokuto stuns for a moment, unsure what to do. Foster gives a smile, “Ah that sounded a bit intimidating. Sit, really, it's just a chat."

Bokuto puts his bag down and takes a seat next to his while quietly watching his teammates.

"How was the check-up?" Foster asks.

"Well, they said they would give you a copy of the report..."

"I know, but I still want to hear it from you. And check-in on things not on the report."

"Could be worse," Bokuto admits. "I'm still pretty frustrated. A bit angry, but that's mostly gone...sometimes...still, thank you.”

"No, that’s my job as a coach. I do wish I caught it even earlier though, or prevented it all from the beginning."

“I wanted to help the team win the league finals.”

“I know, you’ve been giving it 120% this season, but you always gave more than your all. You’re passionate almost to a fault. Don’t forget your body’s human.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” Foster laughs. “Taking care of yourself, is a part of taking care of the team, because you are a part of it. Even now, as you recover, you’ll just be taking on a slightly different role. I still expect you to show up to training, attend matches, and be present. You’ll have your therapy sessions to recover, but anything else will be worked just the same as the others.”

“I have to go to matches?”

“Don’t think the bench is just for warming, Koutarou. Do you think it’s easy for me to just sit there?”

Bokuto shakes his head. “N-No! Not at all, you’re our coach! And without you there, we’d-”

Foster gives Bokuto a thumbs up. “I’ll show you a different view, Koutarou. One that’s not above the net, but beyond the entire court. I showed Meian once too.”

A different view? A different view that Foster also showed Meian? Bokuto remembers hearing about it when he first joined. That was before Meian was captain and before Bokuto entered the team. Meian had also suffered an injury and had to sit out a few matches.

"BOKUTO, you’re here! Can you spot my form for me?" Hinata calls out. "I'm still working on the timing."

Atsumu also notices Bokuto. "Oy, don't think you can skip out on practice Bokkun!"

"I don't like attention, Bokuto, carrying the offensive is troublesome."

Meian walks over to where Bokuto and Foster are sitting and rests a hand on Bokuto's shoulder. "Go get dressed and come back. We need ya here ordinary ace. The team and the volleyball world."

On the court and off the court, Bokuto Koutarou is many things. He's the youngest and only son of one particular Bokuto household in Tokyo. He's best friends with some incredible people. Throughout his school days up until now, there are many titles and accolades that decorate him. Of the many, he's also the current outside hitter of the MSBY Black Jackals, wearing the number 12 on his back. He is sometimes moody, other times downright stubborn. Yet at the same time, one of the most observant and patient. Bokuto Koutarou exists between the duality of many things. While moody, he's also sensitive. Unassuming, but also brimming with confidence in the right conditions. He's dynamic. And much like a roly-poly toy. He can be knocked over and each time he will come back up again relentlessly no matter how long it takes.

As Bokuto closes his locker and makes his way down the same corridor he would go through to get to the gym, he glances at the framed newspaper articles lining the hall--of those who came before him, those who are with him, and there’s also him. 

While the sound of yells and squeaking shoes gets louder and louder, Bokuto thinks about who he is and where he's been and where he'll go. Despite every dip and wave of Bokuto's thoughts and emotions, his anchors and shores will bring him back. No matter how much his mind drifts and lets go, he has grounding and a base. He has a beacon to light the way home. He's still a little lost out in the open sea, but he sees where he needs to head. One paddle and a kick at a time, Bokuto tells himself. He'll get there, he'll get back. He's going to return. Even if three kicks forward will result in a wave carrying him five kicks back. He's going to come back. 

On the court and off the court, he's with this team. This family is with him. And he, Bokuto Koutarou, is first and foremost himself. Somewhere along these thoughts, with a firm belief that things will and truly will get better, a few weeks pass by. 

So many things can happen in a matter of a few weeks. It’s the combination of tens of days and hundreds of hours. The weather has cleared and the freshness of March rushes through Osaka. A pink wave dots trees everywhere heralding the peak of Spring. You follow the link in the group chat and enter the digital watch party.

“Hey everyone, sorry I’m late,” you greet, trying to adjust the mic. “Everyone hear me okay?”

“And she made it!” Yukie yells into the mic. You wince and quickly check the sound settings. “We’re just missing Akaashi now.”

Akaashi pipes up, “I just got here, am I the last one?” 

To support Bokuto and celebrate the Jackals’ quarterfinals, Yukie’s decided to host a watch party. Akaashi is at his own apartment, but the rest of the team are gathered at Yukie’s place to watch the match.

The group call beeps as one other person, the MVP of the night, joins. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto exclaims, waving into the camera. “Geez, why are you making this such a big deal, I don’t remember watch parties?”

“We had one last year before I moved,” you remind him.

“That’s LAST year already!” Saru points out. “Besides, we’re seeing our ace in a new role today, giving full support, am I right everyone?”

“Yea, exactly!” Konoha agrees. 

“The camera isn’t even on me.”

“Doesn’t matter, this is us supporting you,” Akaashi says.

Bokuto snorts, but he can’t hide the excitement and joy on his face or in his voice. “Who even cheers for the people not on the court?”

“HAHA, WE DO!”

When Bokuto hangs up and joins his team in the locker room, the huge smile is still stuck on his face. His teammates are done changing into their jerseys and pre-game ritual preps. They’re pretty funny, actually. Bokuto knows he likes giving himself a pep-talk in the mirror in his own privacy. Hinata will do a handstand. Atsumu will also give himself a pep-talk, but it’s usually nowhere as wholesome as Bokuto’s. And finally, Sakusa will file his nails briefly again even though they are always immaculate. He’ll end it all by lint-rolling his jersey to get rid of dog hair.

“Bokkun, who ya talking to?” Atsumu chides. “Get dressed already?!”

“Nah, don’t need to.”

“What do you mean, did you forget your jersey, Bokuto?” Hinata asks.

“Perfect, wear mine then,” Atsumu says as he throws a spare “Miya” jersey over. “You can cheer for me today, I don’t mind.”

Bokuto catches the jersey and throws it right back at Atsumu’s face.

“H-Hey!!! Are you looking to fight? I-” 

Bokuto pulls off his hoodie and smugly reveals the proud #12 he’s been wearing already.

“Damn you Owl, should’ve said so earlier,” Atsumu mutters under his grin as he shoves the extra jersey into his bag.

The team follows Meian to the main area. The crowds have increased in size compared to previous matches, evident by the volleyball fans intrigued by the quarterfinals. Semis and finals will have an even larger audience.

Meian claps to get everyone’s attention. “Okay, Bokuto, until we win finals, do you think you can give our pre-game pep talks?”

Bokuto takes a step back. “Nah, I’m not really good with fancy words or anything.”

“He gives GREAT pep-talks to himself! I’ve heard him!” Hinata blurts out. 

“Hinata!” 

Tomas pats Bokuto’s shoulder. “It’s okay if he doesn’t want to, don’t force him.”

“I’ll do it.” Bokuto takes a deep breath and extends his arms out. Everyone joins in on the huddle. “Um...just think about having fun. Volleyball isn’t always easy, but just do what feels good. We trained hard together, it’ll come naturally. Have fun out there...I’m proud to call you all my teammates. Jackals!”

“Let’s GO!” Meian finishes. “We’re going to win this and go to the next round!”

Sakusa gives Bokuto a knowing nod. “We’ll win, and you can’t back out from the agreement.”

Bokuto frowns. “What agreement?”

“Remember? Just last week at Samu’s?” Atsumu reminds him. “Need me to spell it out for you?”

“This is peer-pressure.”

Hinata laughs. “We haven’t even won yet! How’s that peer-pressure!”

“YET!”

Hinata laughs once more and runs off to join the others on the court. “Watch us, Bokuto!” 

Bokuto takes a seat next to Coach Foster on the bench. Is this what the coach sees all the time? Bokuto watches the team say their final jokes and give the preliminary handshake to the opposing team. The view from the bench is so different. Even with the steel seat under him, he doesn’t feel any less anxious. If anything, he feels almost more. Foster’s face is relaxed, but his brows are tight. The bench is a new experience.

A month ago, when you last saw Bokuto’s Osaka match in person, you thought of Bokuto to be extraordinary. Untouchable, soaring high and beyond. The world was his stage, under the bright lights and camera flashes. The court was his arena, where the sound of his squeaking shoes and shattering sound of a spike announced, Bokuto Koutarou is here. And you felt there was nothing you could do but admire him from the sidelines. 

The feelings of admiration and awe are still there. In the corner of the camera, you can see Bokuto next to Coach Foster at the bench area. Bokuto in his jersey is a sight to see. His shoulders are broad and held back confidently as he watches his team play. Even if you focus on the current rally and play by the athletes on the court, you cannot help but draw your attention back to one with that eccentric hair. The world is still his stage, whether under the light or in the shadows. The court is still his arena, his presence courses through the intricate play of his teammates. It’s in Atsumu’s serve, Hinata’s receives, Sakusa’s kill. Bokuto drilled it with them during practice, over and over again. Bokuto is as extraordinary as ever, but something’s different, whether in yourself or in him, or both. 

Since that match, Bokuto’s been Bokuto more than ever. You’ve seen him laugh, seen him flustered, been there when he cried, saw him at his worst, and watched how he overcame that. You are still witnessing Bokuto climb out from the depths of his mental and physical hellscape. Since the last match, you want to take his hand within your own and interlock fingers. No more tugging on sleeves through crowds. You only want hands laced together that will tell him you’ll be there and always be there, regardless of what the lights see or the camera captures. He can be anything and any state he wants to be, and to you, he’ll only ever be Koutarou to you. Simply that. Ordinarily that. It’s a sensation both exciting and delightful as it is nerve-wracking. 

“Did you see? Did you see?” Bokuto exclaims happily through the phone, his speech is rapid and bright.

“The last few points?” You exclaim back. “That rally had all of us at the edge of our seats!”

The match just ended and the group watch party is over. You’re huddled on your couch gushing over the incredible outcome of the match with Bokuto, who called you soon after.

“Right? Me too! And did you see the set-up in the end? That was my idea,” Bokuto boasts proudly. “I told them during the last time-out, I saw through it. Their middle-blockers are good, but Sakusa’s better! And I knew that with Hinata’s feints, this was something they could pull off!”

“I saw! I saw!” you reply back earnestly. It’s been much too long since you have heard Bokuto’s voice like this. “I’m so happy for you guys. Congratulations, it was another great match!”

“WE WON BOKUTO! YOU GOTTA DO IT NOW! NO TAKE BACKS!” Hinata yells in the background.

You check your phone signal. “Did you say something? I thought I heard something in the back, it’s kind of loud.”

Bokuto beams as he cradles the phone to his ear to hear you better. He waves a hand around to shush and silence the rowdy teammates behind him.

“Bo-ku-to, Bo-ku-to...” Inunaki chants.

“Psst, say something Sakusa!”

“What do you want me to say…it’s his business, not like he promised or anything, did he now?”

“Oof, that’s pretty low Sakusa, remind me never to piss you off.”

“I don’t know, Miya, your existence is enough.”

“HEY, ZIP IT!” Bokuto shushes loudly and presses his phone closer while trying to get some privacy. “Sorry about that, um, they’re kinda excited.

“Yea, I figured, I heard them.”

Bokuto clears his throat. He feels lucky. He’ll do it. He’ll do it. He’ll do it right now. For better or for worse, if it goes to shit, he’ll just laugh it off and say it’s a dare. Maybe cry about it later. He’ll do it.

“Um…next weekend...” Bokuto chokes on his own breath. Maybe he’s not so lucky.

It doesn’t take much for you to catch on quickly. Bokuto’s nervousness, his teammate’s relentless teasing...you put the pieces together and a grin spreads up your cheeks to your eyes. You feel lucky. “Yes? I’m free.”

“Free? Yea, I’m free! I’m free next weekend too! Fuck, sorry! Ah, shit, of course I’m free, I was asking, but I didn’t ask and you said you’re free, and…”

“Saturday.”

“Yea! Saturday! Um you know the Kema Sakuranomiya Park?”

“By the Osaka River?”

“Yea…” Bokuto drawls out. “Do you want to go watch the cherry blossoms?”

You bite your lips to keep yourself from overreacting. “I’d love that,” you reply, before closing your eyes and tacking on quickly, “It’s a date!” 

You wait for Bokuto’s response and reaction and crack open a single eye to see what’s going on, but you don’t hear anything. A moment later the line disconnects. “Did he just hang up on me?” you ask yourself, laughing in disbelief. “Is that a yes or a no?” 

Your phone beeps and you see an incoming text from Bokuto. You open it and fall over laughing. 

_ “Hi, this is Hinata. Bokuto’s um, he’s fine, but he’s freaking out a little. It’s a yes though! He’ll talk to you soon! Thanks um, he’ll be in your care! ^ ^” _

Yes, come the weekend when the cherry blossoms will dance across the sky, you’ll tell him everything. It feels right.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed that the final chapter count is updated to 34! It might become 33, depending on if two chapters will be merged. We're really getting there, and I think this chapter really took a leap ahead...I really cannot wait to bring the next chapter. We all know what's happening already, right? 😂


	30. Cherry Blossom Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wind rustling the cherry blossom trees turns into an empty silence. The chatter of the people around the park becomes mute. In his golden, bright eyes, there’s only you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (maybe belated) Valentine's everyone. I hope everyone is doing well. You maybe have noticed, I readjusted the total chapter count, so this is the second-to-last chapter. Meaning the next chapter will be the final! I initially had one more arc planned and other moments, and truly I adore this story and all of you so much. I love reading the comments from everyone too, they give me so much warmth whenever I feel down. If I could I'd want the story to go on forever so I could still chat and hear from everyone, hahaha.  
> I hate to admit it, but I'm a bit burned out from writing such a long story too. There's also plenty of other characters and genres I want to try out, that I feel like I can't because this story isn't over. I do think that with the Reader and Bokuto coming together, it is at a good place for the end. They've come such a long way! I hope this and the next finale will wrap things nicely for you.

It’s a Friday lunch at Miya Onigiri. Osamu helps out another customer before coming over to where the three of you are sitting.

“So,” he says while wiping the countertop clean, “I hear you have a little something this weekend.”

Hana and Jun’s stares shoot holes through you, silently demanding you to explain yourself. You clear your throat and try not to make eye contact, responding, “Just a date this week-”

“JUST?” Hana exclaims, putting her food down. Not many things can tear her attention from food, but clearly, this ‘just a date’ situation is more than enough for her to put a pause and turn to Osamu. “How do YOU know and I’m only hearing about this now?” 

“Well,” Osamu searches his head for answers. Maybe he shouldn’t tell you exactly why. “Um, well Atsumu knows, so I know by default.”

Hana gasps and looks at you shocked. “You mean that Bokuto and his whole circle know already?”

You shrug and sheepishly answer, “We were all pretty busy this week and I just didn’t find the chance.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I saw you in the bathroom,” Hana points out sarcastically. “Down the hall just every day. And we even talked about the weather in the coffee room! Couldn’t you have just, you know, hey I have a date?”

“Sorry, Hana. I’ll tell you now, it’s a date,” you repeat for her.

“Okay, okay, at least we know now,” Jun says, trying to calm Hana down. But they do not hesitate to tack on their own questions. “So, who asked?”

Well, Bokuto prompted and then you sort of just added things on, but you suppose the actual word “date” came out of your own mouth, so, “I’m not really sure actually, but it is what it is.”

“Gods, I’m freaking out.” Hana turns over to Jun and puts her head on their shoulder. “Jun, do we need to chaperone? Oh my gosh, we need to hide behind a tree or something.” 

“You have a date this weekend too, Hana.” 

Hana pouts. “Maybe I’ll reschedule it instead.”

“Seriously?”

You laugh and reassure them. “It’ll be okay. I’ll call you all after and tell you how it goes.”

Osamu clears his throat, “Should I be hearing the story from you?”

You roll your eyes. “You’ll hear it down the grapevine, I’m sure. Source it from Atsumu.”

“I’m not sure that’s a reliable resource,” Osamu chuckles.

Saturday comes sooner than you realize and suddenly all the calm thoughts exit. The week leading up to today is completely normal. You didn’t have any trouble eating, sleeping, or focusing at work. But just this morning, maybe the dawn of reality finally comes to you. Oh, it’s so happening. A date you signed yourself up for. With Bokuto.

You feel like you’re just lofty and floating through the crowds. Your head is crammed with thoughts and empty at the same time. You’re not sure what to expect. Is he there already? Will you have to wait for him? Are you dressed well? You look fine, right? What about the shoes? Is the food you’re bringing good? What if something gets stuck between your teeth. Dear goodness, did you lock your front door?

The subway soon arrives at the Sakuranomiya station. You follow the rest of the passengers out of the train. Kema Sakuranomiya Park is by the Ogawa River. Countless cherry blossom trees line the banks of the waters. The expanse stretches on for four kilometers. The grass beneath the fresh blooms serve as the perfect spot for picnics and flower gazing. Boats zip through the waters. Kites fly in the sky. Laughter fills the air in the height of spring.

You decide that you’ll find an empty spot somehow amongst the crowds since Bokuto didn’t mention to you that he’s here. Once you do, you’ll call him and let him know. While you search the park for a good spot, you happen to chance upon the figure of the athlete pacing around the grass. He’s here.

“Koutarou!”

Bokuto stops his frantic steps and jolts up straight. “HEY!” 

“Did you wait long? You should have called me, I didn’t even know you were here already.” 

He shakes his head frantically. “No, no, no. I just got here! Yea, just got here. When did you get here?” Bokuto mentally facepalms. Why is he leaking stupid right now of all times? He got here a long time ago, actually, but you didn’t say you were here already, and he was too nervous to say anything. Bokuto was hoping to use this alone time to calm his nerves. You chanced upon him right in the middle of his little pep talk.

“Oh, I just got here too,” you respond, swallowing your own nerves, and point at the lush patch of grass under the cherry blossom tree. “Is this a good spot? We can set up the blanket here.”

“Yea!” Bokuto agrees, taking out the folded picnic blanket.

Once there’s something to do, all the nerves seem to go away. The two of you lay down the blanket, and take out the bentos prepared for the day. With food as an intermediary in-between, everything seems to be going smoothly. So many others are also out here enjoying the cherry blossoms. There are families, some small and some large. There are groups of friends, schoolgirls taking aesthetic photos together, college clubs playing games. There are couples, of all ages and types. There are individual visitors, artists and photographers, here to capture the fleeting images of spring in Osaka. It doesn’t matter who or what you are. Everyone belongs here at this moment.

“Mommy, look! It’s Bokuto! It’s Bokuto!” an excited voice calls, a few paces away. 

You and Bokuto look towards the direction of the sound and see a young girl holding a volleyball. She looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t exactly pinpoint where you’ve seen her before. She runs up to the two of you excitedly and shows Bokuto the volleyball.

“Do you remember me? It’s me, Emi!” before turning to you too, “And you’re the kind big sister who gave me the jersey! Remember me?” 

Now you do. The little girl at the Osaka home game. You ended up giving her the jersey Bokuto gave you. 

“Oh, little Emi! Of course, I remember!” Bokuto exclaims. “What a coincidence. You here with your Mama? What are you learning now in volleyball?”

Emi’s mom catches up with her daughter and greets the two of you, nudging her daughter to mind her manners. “Sorry about her, she’s just a bit excited. Emi, you can’t just run up and bother people.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you tell her and put your attention on Emi. “How’s volleyball? Did you learn something new?”

She beams. “I’m going to grow up and be just like Bokuto. I have a match in two weeks, so I’m trying to practice all I can.”

You and Bokuto invite Emi and her mother to join in on the picnic. The quiet lunch between the two of you soon becomes a more...talkative event. With Emi going on her happy rambles. You don’t find the opportunity to have a private moment with Bokuto, but that’s alright too. After lunch, you sit with Emi’s mother and watch Bokuto and Emi pass the volleyball back and forth.

“Bokuto’s helped Emi a lot,” Emi’s mother tells you. “She finally found something she can put her energy into, and make new friends..and she looks up to him so much. I don’t really know sports, but Bokuto’s energy on the court is really something else.”

You smile. “It is. His presence just motivates you...it makes you feel like he’s on top of the world and you too can be anything you want to be.”

Emi’s mother laughs. “I’m rooting for you.”

You become flustered at her comment and quiets down. Her grin grows even wider. “And you too, you have no idea how much your act of kindness moved Emi too.”

“The jersey? That’s just on a whim, really.”

Emi’s mother shakes her head. “Even if it’s just a whim, you gave her hope too. And even if it’s just a chance encounter, I think meeting both you and Bokuto are very dear memories to her. She’ll remember it, always.”

Both of you turn your attention back to Bokuto and Emi, running around the banks of the river. Emi’s mother calls her daughter over. “Emi, let’s leave the big brother and sister now. We’re interrupting their date, you know.”

Emi’s eyes light up, as if she suddenly realizes something remarkable about the situation. She tugs on Bokuto’s shirt and gestures for him to lend an ear. Bokuto gets down to her level and listens to what she has to say.

You watch Emi giggle and run away to her mom, as Bokuto’s face turns into a brilliant shade of red. Emi waves at you and flashes a thumbs up. “Thank you for everything! Bye-bye!”

Emi and her mother disappear into the crowds. Bokuto is next to you drinking water and having a coughing fit. You pat his back and ask, “What’s wrong? What did she say?”

Bokuto shakes his head and swallows another gulp of water.

“N-nothing.”

“Do you want to go walk along the banks?” you suggest. 

Maybe a change of scene would be good, actually. Bokuto readily agrees. “Oh? Oh, yea okay. Yea, sure.”

It’s not so good. For his nerves.

The walk along the banks seem to expand the aura of intimacy. Suddenly, everywhere Bokuto looks is just filled with couples. Couples, couples, couples. Holding hands, hugging, taking pictures, kissing, whatever. He feels like the only single person in the crowd. And then there’s also you. Oh gosh, what are you even thinking in your head? 

“How’s your shoulder now?” you ask, also trying to find a topic to fill the silence.

Bokuto rolls his right shoulder and gives you a thumbs up. “A bit better, but there are still some ways to go. The trainers are fun to work with and I still train with the rest of the team.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Some days are worse than others,” Bokuto tells you. “I didn’t want to be a burden or remain coddled. But I guess, I still wasn’t the most responsible with my own body…” Bokuto takes a deep breath, enjoying the chatter of the crowds around both of you and the fresh scents of the wind and flowers. “Yea, I guess I’m still only human.”

“I don’t think you’re coddled though,” you point out. “Moving here alone at eighteen, having to suddenly fit into a new team, none of that is easy. We’re all really proud of you.”

“Adulting is hard.”

“Mhm. But we’re all going to be okay.”

The silence resumes as the two of you walk slowly next to each other. You can feel something invisible pulling your fingers closer to his, like a magnet telling you to reach over. You almost catch yourself touching his fingertips. You would have until Bokuto breaks the silence.

“The flowers are pretty,” Bokuto awkwardly points out with a nervous laugh. “They...they sort of remind me of graduation...from Fukurodani.”

“You’re right, it is graduation season again, huh,” you muse, drawing your fingers back into a nervous, tight fist. “For us, it’s been, what, more than four, five years now?”

“Something like that,” Bokuto answers, “I didn’t expect that we’d still be close again after graduation.”

“I didn’t expect a lot of things,” you admit with a quiet chuckle. “I really sat down in front of my office monitor and thought to myself, ‘This is all there is to my life.’” 

“Back in Tokyo?”

You nod. “Yea. I mean how was I supposed to know that in October I would somehow get on a bullet train to Sendai? Or land myself in a new city altogether? And you, most of all.”

Bokuto does not respond and the two of you continue the slow stroll on the path next to the river. 

“I thought everything would become a relic of youth, you know. Just memories and bygones,” you continue. “But after we started talking again after I started talking to people again, I started to look forward to so many things. Like the weekends, or a nice dinner, and hanging out with people. Winding down doesn’t feel like a chore anymore.”

You and Bokuto reminisce about how the past year up until now came to be. The separate memories the two of you experienced and endured seemed to be stitched together. Bokuto can recall just about everything that happened in the past five years you’ve been alone. And even though you were never there, you feel like Bokuto’s memories are also your own. Seamless. And although jagged and imperfect, it’s just right.

You take a deep breath and pause in your tracks. Bokuto notices that you’re not next to him and stops too, turning around just in time to hear you stutter out, “Koutarou...” 

Bokuto would never, in his years of living so far, be able to imagine the way this scene is playing out. Your long-winded speech is going on and on in circles as you become more and more flustered. Bokuto tries his best to follow along with your non-existent train of thought. All your ramble is really just going in circles around one thing, but finally, you get there. 

The wind rustling the cherry blossom trees turns into an empty silence. The chatter of the people around the park becomes mute. In his golden, bright eyes, there’s only you. Constantly, only ever you. And you, today, finally telling him that the laws of fate and attraction smile upon both of you together. Bokuto feels his chest surge and mind go blank. He’s never been this nervous. Nationals never made him feel this way. The lonely ride to Osaka didn’t make him feel this way. Losing a match point, certainly made him feel pathetic, but he did not feel this way.

Only once, did he dare to have a dream about something like this, and that, he’s sure, is just a fluke. But hearing how your voice and lips form those sounds is also almost familiar as if this really isn’t his first time hearing it from you. Bokuto pinches himself and pinches some more until it truly, truly hurts. The words “I like you” escaping your mouth seem almost foreign to his ears.

“Koutarou?” you ask, waving a hand in front Bokuto, who’s clearly lost into his own thoughts, stunned. “Kouta-” you ask again before suddenly you’re cut off by Bokuto enveloping you in a tight hug. You automatically hug him back, warmth filling you to the brim when you hear Bokuto’s quiet murmur next to your ear, “Is this a dream? Is this a dream?”, whispered over and over again like a mantra.

“I like you Koutarou,” you tell him again, gently patting his back, convincing him that this is very much real. It sounds odd to your ears, even though you have said these to the mirror countless times, murmured it into Bokuto’s shirt too many times to count. Truthfully, if you were not the one telling him in the first place, you would think this is all a dream too. And maybe it is all just one long, eternal lucid dream. If it is, then let it go on forever. “D-do you like me too?” 

Bokuto breaks from the embrace, furiously nodding his head. “YES. I DO, I DO! I like you too! I really, really do!”

You did not expect the sudden and loud response from Bokuto, but hearing his eagerness and absolute faith in his answer makes your heart soar. It’s mutual. It’s so mutual without any hints of doubt in it. The answer is clear as the sky today.

“Koutarou?” 

“Yea?”

“I have something for you. Hand,” you tell him, gesturing for him to copy the way you have your palms up.

Bokuto copies you, still in a state of excitement, but also confused with what is going on. With a small smile, you slip your hand in with his, weaving your fingers between his in an enclosed grasp.

“W-Wait!” Bokuto quickly pulls his hand away and frantically wipes it on his pant leg. “Ahh, I got a little nervous!”

You reach out to take his hand again. “I think I really like this,” you tell him, bringing both of your hands up. “It’s something I’ll get used to.”

Bokuto offers a shy smile and swings your arm around. “Yea? I think so too. This.”

There are many couples admiring the trees and flowers along the path. Slowly strolling, basking in the spring sun and breeze. You and Bokuto are now one of those many. How incredibly amusing, that this very scene written and rewritten countless times in stories and movies to the point it’s a gag, can be so wonderful and endearing. Cliches, as you might put it now, are cliche because there are truly some real addicting qualities to them.

“I’m glad it’s you,” you tell him. 

Already your feel like the hand intertwined with yours feels so perfect and right. You should have reached out to hold it at Dotonbori, but it isn’t quite so late now either. Even if the two of you have gone in five circles and two squares, the two of you somehow managed to get to a point where you two take the next step together.

“I’m glad it’s you too.”

The day seems so incredibly normal and surreal at the same time. Nothing is upside down, time isn’t going backward. The sky is blue and the flowers are pink. To the other folks strolling, lost in their own world, they would not know that you and Bokuto are simply a fresh pair. No one will know how either of your hearts beat wildly against the chest. How the palm of hands is clearly nervous and unsure, but still holding on tight. They wouldn’t know anything unless someone shouts it out for the world to hear.

“SHE LIKES ME!” Bokuto announces to another couple walking next to the both of you. He goes to another person and announces to them, “SHE LIKES ME!” And another, “I LIKE HER! WE LIKE EACH OTHER!” 

The moment Bokuto is sure that this is his new reality, he settles in quickly. Quick to adapt, quick to share his happiness and glee.

He squeezes your hand and asks, “C-can you say it again?” 

“Say what?”

“You know...”

You laugh and repeat the words to him. “I like you, Koutarou.”

“Again, please?”

“I like you, Koutarou.”

“Again?”

You shake your head and take a deep breath. “IlikeyouIlikeyouIlikeyou. There.”

Bokuto beams. “I can’t wait to tell the others. They’ll get a HOOT when they hear-” Suddenly, he freezes. 

You shake his arm slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“I lost the bet.”

“Huh?”

“I lost the bet to Osamu and others. They said you would confess first…” Bokuto sighs, recalling the little gamble he and the others made. It’s time to mentally wave money good-bye. “It was all Osamu and Sakusa’s fault, bringing this up in the first place. And then Atsumu decided that betting would make for very amusing entertainment.”

“OH! So that’s why Osamu told me I HAD to tell you,” you remark, laughing at how Osamu managed to slip his influences in. “You know what, just tell them you told me, then get the money,” you nudged him a bit. “We’ll then split it 50/50, how does that sound?”

Bokuto bursts out laughing. “When did you get so crafty? You’re just like that damn cat, Kuroo, now!”

“There’s still lots to me you don’t know yet Koutarou.”

“Is that so? Well me too. So…”

“I suppose we’ll figure it out together, then?”

Bokuto brings your hand up and lightly presses a kiss. “Something like that,” he teases, before returning to his embarrassing yet endearing antics: flaunting you out to the rest of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [•Kema Sakuranomiya Park](https://www.google.com/search?q=kema+sakuranomiya+park&rlz=1C1CHBF_enUS893US893&oq=kema+&aqs=chrome.0.69i59j0i433j0i131i433j69i57j0l3j69i61.786j0j4&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8) really is gorgeous. Like described in the story, it's about 4 km long, and during April the cherry blossom trees densely line the bank.  
> •If you aren't on my tumblr, you may not know, but my name is Emi 😊 I really did self-insert myself as a little girl LOL and speak through her mother.


	31. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Each journey comes to an end, but a new chapter will unfold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it my friends.

Osamu wipes his hands on a towel and comes out from the kitchen with his own food.

"Thanks, Osamu! This is delicious," Hinata compliments, mouth full of food.

Osamu grins and takes a spot on the left of you. Bokuto's to your right. Sakusa, Atsumu, and Hinata are sitting across on the other side.

"Sakusa, is the food alright?" Osamu asks. Sakusa always gets a special bento because he doesn't like food directly touched by hand.

"Yes, thank you."

The athletes at the table sit in an awkward half-silence. The mood is dampened and unsure.

"AH, don't be so sad every one! We'll have next season!" Bokuto exclaims. "It was a beautiful match."

Atsumu sighs and nibbles his food. "We were THIS close."

The MSBY Black Jackals met their long-time rivals the Schweiden Adlers for finals and lost the match. It's not that second place meant poor performance, truthfully each athlete on the court brought everything they could. Still, each defeat is no less disappointing. For the Division 1 teams, it's quite difficult to gauge a stronger team based on performances. This time, the Adlers took the finals, but last season the MSBY Black Jackals took that spot. Not to mention the team beat the Adlers for the exhibition match in October last year. The score was 1-3, quite a sizeable difference in terms of points. And the year before the last, it was the EJP Raijin that reigned supreme.

"Volleyball is fun when there are strong opponents after all," you comment. "That's what Koutarou tells me."

Bokuto nods in agreement and puts another onigiri on your plate. "Try this one!"

Atsumu makes a face and sneers. "I can't believe you two got together so quickly. AH, lovebirds, please show your love-doveys elsewhere."

"It's cute!" Hinata laughs and turns to face you. "So, Bokuto's been avoiding this question. Who confessed first?"

You and Bokuto can feel the rest of the teams' eyes turn to the two of you, demanding a satisfying answer to their questions. Bokuto gulps and prepares to come clean to them, but you throw a question back at the other athletes.

"I heard Bokuto mention that you guys somehow had a bet on him asking me out on a date. What exactly happened, hm?"

Osamu laughs and passes the spotlight to Sakusa. "Sakusa, this is your fault, you better answer."

Sakusa? You shoot him a questioning glance. Quiet Sakusa, who seems to not take part in any gossip or merrymaking?

Bokuto buries his face in his hands. "Do we have to go through that again?"

Your eyes light up and implore Sakusa to tell you the details.

Sakusa puts his chopsticks down. "After practice a few weeks ago, we gathered here to eat. I asked Bokuto when he was going to ask you out...Osamu agreed with me."

Osamu adds on. "It was pretty obvious the two of you were going in circles and-"

"Every other time Bokkun opens his mouth, it's about you in some way!" Atsumu huffs. "It practically became an earworm!"

"I DID NOT!" Bokuto defends. "I DID NOT!"

Hinata laughs and joins in the finish the story. "Bokuto wanted to tell you at the end of the season, but when I said I was nervous for the upcoming match-"

Atsumu cuts in. "I suggested that if the team won, Bokuto would tell you. As a sort of team motivation thing."

You burst out laughing. "So you used us, unrelated to volleyball, as a bargaining tool? What is this?"

"Hey, anything or anyone related to Bokuto is related to volleyball is related to us."

Bokuto sighs loudly and finally shows his face again. "I still can't believe this. This is embarrassing."

You lean on his shoulder. "Aw, come on, it's funny!"

"Stop being lovey-dovey in front of us!"

After some more teasing banter, everyone continues enjoying Osamu's creations again and eats in what can only be called "relative silence". Aside from the occasional banter, some of the athletes reflect on the match and the moment of loss. Others are solely focusing on the food, too tired to actually think of anything else. The end is pretty anti-climatic. And this year's volleyball season comes to a close.

"Now that season's over, what are your plans?"

"I think I'll spend some time with Natsu," Hinata says thoughtfully. "I have some plans to visit Brazil too. Then, it's just going to be conditioning for Worlds."

"I will be conditioning too, diligently. Kageyama's not going to get Best Setter award at Worlds," Atsumu grumbles.

Osamu snorts. "That's not what you told me, Mr. I'm-going-to-sleep-and-eat-and-sleep-some-more."

"Those aren't mutually exclusive!"

The off-season is a chance for the athletes to find quality time with their loved ones. It's a time to do everything they could not do during the competitive season. The off-season months are also the time when athletes really focus on conditioning and improving their bodies and techniques in preparation for the next season. Coach Foster will reassess the athletes, come up with new plays, and the athletes will drill them over and over again. Even as elites, there are always areas of improvement and things to tweak around.

"I'll be focusing on strengthing the muscles around my shoulder," Bokuto shares. "The trainer and doctor seem to agree that we caught it pretty early on, so strengthening and stabilizing the shoulder should be enough. Then, we'll work on the best way to utilize it without straining myself."

"Did they say how long before you can return to competition?" Hinata asks.

Bokuto shrugs. "Not sure. I'm hoping I'll be at the same level around July? If it goes well, hopefully, I can still be on the team for Worlds."

"Hey, hey," Osamu interjects and points at you. "Don't just think about training and forget this person here."

You roll your eyes at Osamu's teasing. Bokuto bursts out laughing and wraps an arm around you for a quick side-hug. "No way! Off-season, we're going on so many dates and sending photos till everyone gets sick!"

You laugh and gently elbow Bokuto. "Stop torturing them. Akaashi mentioned to Kuroo that you already spam them too much with photos."

"What? NO!"

With laughter and banter, the celebratory dinner of the end of V.League season also comes to a close, and a couple of months soon pass by. Some athletes stick with their initial plans. Others find new things popping up along the way to take part in. A lot of events can happen during this time period.

Hinata gets an opportunity to star in his first commercial after making an impressive entrance debut at the V.League season. He's an athlete many sports reporters and commentators have their eyes on. Sakusa, well, he's still doing well. Atsumu, after taking three days and nights completely relaxing, did in fact get back onto a rigorous training regime. Osamu is probably even busier than the athletes. The Tokyo location of Onigiri Miya finally opens up and the grand opening is an absolute success.

Speaking of Tokyo, Kuroo and the Fukurodani bunch can't be left out. All of Kuroo's hard work pays off. He gets a promotion and is given more important responsibilities for the marketing projects in preparation for Worlds. Akaashi has a solid reputation at the firm, and the commercial success of Udai's new manga is also propelling Akaashi's name through the ears of the entire publishing industry. Firm life is stressful, but a change of management and a breath of fresh air is making the working environment a lot nicer.

Komi's drama finally gets aired too. You and Bokuto along with the rest of the group watch it together as a weekly event. Both Konoha and Sarukui are also doing well. As for Yukie, she's been incredibly busy. Good patient relations and reviews are a wonderful thing, but her back-up list is also incredibly long. Around the same time V. League ended, Kaori quit her job. She's still in the same industry, but the pay and broadcasting exposure is much, much better.

On your end, Hana is officially pursuing a long-term relationship with the guy she met at the mixer. Jun's relationship with their partner continues to be loving, in addition to a well-deserved promotion after their hard work and contributions. They now serve as the team lead for the editorial group and you cannot possibly be prouder.

The months after the volleyball season are also especially precious for you and Bokuto's new relationship. A lot of work is still needed, and you two are still learning new things about each other. It's a learning experience for both of you, but with effort, it's blossoming. There was the first kiss at the light's exhibition outside Osaka Castle, the Universal Studio date Bokuto begged for (the cute photo strip from the booth is something you keep on your work desk), and countless other lazy nights laying around talking about sweet nothings. You also asked if he would like to move in with you, considering the amount of time he spends at your place. But Bokuto didn't want to leave his room or Granny. Either way, the two of you visit her quite often. Along with that is the end of one chapter and the beginning of the next.

"Yea, I'm about to go grab lunch now. Did you eat yet?" Bokuto asks you through the phone.

He's at the Tokyo Training Center to train with the National Team. Some faces are familiar and others are new. With the exception of the Hinata, Atsumu, and Sakusa, Bokuto is quite unfamiliar with the athletes from the other teams. It goes for everybody, really. This is a time to get acquainted and work out issues with play style and techniques.

"Nope. I thought maybe we could go grab something together."

"What? Together?"

"Come outside!"

Bokuto is so confused. Aren't you supposed to be in Osaka? He still listens to you and steps outside. You're standing right at the entrance waving at him. The sight immediately brings a smile to his face. You rush up to him and automatically, he opens his arms for a hug. He relishes how you feel and inhales the scent of your shampoo. It's been many days since he has last seen you and it feels like forever already.

"How did you..."

You smile and give him a quick kiss. "I have some PTO saved up. So I decided to give myself a long weekend and surprise you."

"Well, I'm certainly surprised!" Bokuto says hugging you again and slowly rocking from side to side. He's so happy. So lucky. First, making a smooth and complete recovery. Coming back even stronger. Then, he gets a spot on the starting roster. And finally, you are here. Honestly, what else can he really ask for?

Bokuto's stomach growls loudly. He quickly lets go of you and scratches the back of his neck, a little flustered.

You laugh a bit and take his hand in yours. "Let's go get some food."

"Yea, let's do that."

While you and Bokuto walk over to the restaurant the two of you picked, you notice the arrival of autumn happening in Tokyo already.

"Oh hey, the leaves are changing color soon," you remark.

Bokuto follows your gaze and sees the leaves you're mentioning. You're right. The leaves, still mostly green, are already showing signs of oranges and reds.

"Last year, during autumn, I visited the ginkgo trees on Gingko avenue," you muse. "The leaves were a beautiful golden yellow...do you remember?"

Bokuto squeezes your hand. "Of course I do. We were video calling at the time!"

"You were at Mino Park after a morning run."

"That's right! The trees there are mostly red during autumn."

"You ran all over the park to show it to me," you remind him, laughing at the memory. "I thought...you were so cute."

Bokuto laughs along with you. "I was really nervous at the time too, okay!"

"You?" you ask with an incredulous gasp. "I actually tripped! I was mortified!"

"This year, they'll be red again. Let's go together?"

"Yea. Let's go together."

Even though the two of you have been together for a little while now, Bokuto still feels his heart fill with warmth whenever you agree to go somewhere with him. He's already making tentative plans...even though usually things never go the way he intends. There are still so many places he wants to go with you. Places he has been, and new places he has yet to explore. Together. That's all he hopes for.

There's still plenty of uncertainty for the future. A ton of unknown variables floating in and out, but Bokuto knows that with you as a constant, with everyone else around him present, he'll be okay. Time will reveal all the answers. We'll be okay, even if things seem bleak at the moment. It's true. From one ace to another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh. I'm not sure what else to say, but to express my humblest and deepest gratitude to everyone who clicked in, gave kudos, comments, subscribed, read...any interaction at all. All of you give me so much encouragement and motivation in a way I will never be able to put into words. This fic is my first work of fanfic and in retrospect, there are a ton of things I would change and rewrite and just redo...but I think it's a marker that I improved! Initially, I did have more things planned (honestly the trajectory of the first plotline was quite different), cute dates and more fluff. You might notice them referenced in the chapter. But as I mentioned, I've been a little burnt out with this story. Without making promises, I may in the future come back to add on extras. Feel free to let me know if there is something you really wished to see and perhaps if the inspiration and will come to me, I can write it out in the future.   
> Thinking back to last year when suddenly I felt the call to write, it's been an adventure, a blur, practically a dream. I truly feel that I've become a better writer and happier person because of this story and because of each and every one of you. I love hearing your thoughts, little snippets of your lives, having practically a book club in the comments of Ch 13... I think it's so incredible how somehow, even with different timezones and backgrounds we congregated here for this time period. I really won't ever forget it. I cherish each comment dearly and often read back on them fondly.  
> I want to give a special thank you to those who have literally been following and commenting on the story since single-digit chapters. You all know who you are! Thank you so, so, much. The faith you had in my writing and the encouragements mean the world to me.   
> To all the readers, sincerely thank you. Wherever you may be or what you may be doing, I'll be thinking of you. I hate saying farewells, but all things gotta come to an end. Take care and I wish you the very, very best in any endeavors you may undertake. Feel free to come by again whenever or message me on tumblr @/haikyooot.   
> After LIAH, I'll be finishing up my other series, "Season + Weather". I also have an sfw and nsfw server collab piece on the way. And many other genres and writing techniques I want to tackle. Perhaps those writings won't be up your alley and we shall part ways here. That's okay too! I'm more than happy with the time we shared here.  
> It's been a HOOT. Thank you all again. ❤  
> Love, Emi


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